


The Cracks in Her Memory

by StreetSolo



Series: The Magical Diaries of Tori Brown-Grabiner [1]
Category: Magical Diary
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Eventual Romance, F/M, Forced Marriage, Happy Ending, Magic, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, Oaths & Vows, Older Man/Younger Woman, Plot, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, Witches, Wizards, Wordcount: Over 100.000, eventual angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 150,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5554778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StreetSolo/pseuds/StreetSolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although being married to her professor, Hieronymous Grabiner, isn't easy, Tori still wants to make it work. But will she be able to with old enemies plotting revenge from the shadows? And will Grabiner and Potsdam be able to uncover the nefarious plot against Tori's life before it's too late? Follow Tori's life from her summer after freshman year, throughout her sophomore year at Iris Academy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings! I've gotten several requests from people who haven't played the game/haven't played Grabiner's romance path in the game Magical Diary: Horse Hall, and asked for me to write a brief introduction to the story so they have some idea who the characters are and their relationship to each other, so I've added that in now! Cheers!

INTRODUCTION

                When Tori Brown was thirteen years old, she hardly seemed exceptional to anybody. She had golden blonde hair, bright blue eyes, ran on the track team, and earned relatively good grades. She was, for all intents and purposes, an average teenage girl, until one day when she performed magic, quite accidently.

                It was then that she was given the Choice: when she was sixteen, she would be sent away to a secret boarding school over ninety miles away where she would be trained in the art of wielding her magic. Of course, her parents or friends, as members of the non-magical community, could never know of this. If she told them, she would have her memories wiped and be sent back home without her magic or another glance back.

                Tori agreed to this, and when she was sixteen, she attended her freshman year at Iris Academy. She made good friends with her roommates: a girl named Virginia, who was born from a magical family, and a girl named Ellen, who was a wildseed just like Tori, a boy or girl with inherit magical abilities that was born to non-magical families. She made fast friends with Virginia’s two older brothers, the prankster, Donald, and the popular senior, William. She was even courted by a demon from the magical Otherworld with bright blue skin and vibrant red hair named Damien, although she was hesitant to return his feelings due to his sour reputation around the school.

                But she had made friends, regardless, and did exceptionally well in school, even going as far as to be elected as the treasurer of the freshman class, alongside class president, Minnie Cochran. Although her duties required her to be awake at five in the morning every Saturday to sort and deliver the mail and weekly allowances, she did not mind, even though this put her in the direct path of the notorious Professor Hieronymous Grabiner, a cruel, horrible professor that everyone had nicknamed Grabby due to his terrible attitude. She knew of it firsthand. He had been the first person she bumped into on campus while she was looking for her dorm, Horse Hall, and he had promptly given her ten demerits. Even still, working with him so closely she could see that there was a spark of kindness somewhere in there. For example, while raising funds for the Thanksgiving tribute, Tori had nearly passed out from exhaustion after working so hard, and he had taken her into a nearby restaurant and bought her a cup of hot chai. It would seem like a simple, considerate act to most, but Professor Grabiner was not known for simple, considerate acts, although why this was was anyone’s guess.

                 Things had been going extremely well for Tori up until one early Saturday morning in late January, when she walked into the mail room to find Professor Grabiner unconscious on the floor. She immediately rushed over the barriers and sigils in the floor to try to save his life, and was then firmly accosted by a Manus, a horrible blue-green monster that seized her around the throat. What Tori didn’t know was that Professor Grabiner was the son of a noble viscount, who had a Manus in its service. It was sworn to protect and service his family, so Professor Grabiner could not be harmed, but Tori could be. As it crushed her windpipe, Professor Petunia Potsdam, the headmaster of the school, rushed in and declared Tori betrothed to Professor Grabiner, entering Tori into the family line, and thus ensuring her protection. Professor Grabiner, awakening from his state, swore it to be so, and the deal was struck to save Tori’s life.

                The marriage was performed that afternoon, in the dark dungeons of the school where no one else could find out about it. Professor Potsdam had done all she could to at least making it into a proper wedding, stitching Tori’s wedding dress together with black magic at the last minute. Minnie Cochran was also there to bear witness, and provide moral support as the irritable Grabiner grumbled and glared through the entire ceremony. Tori offered him her kindness and courage, and Grabiner offered her his wisdom and protection, and thus they were married, although he refused to even kiss her. He told her he refused to demean himself and left her at the altar alone, trembling and embarrassed. The marriage was in-name only, of course, and would be dissolved after a year and a day was up.

                But as the months went by, Hieronymous started to display a sort of fondness for her. She was exceedingly gifted in blue magic, his specialty, and she scored top marks on all of her tests. She worked hard and was always jumping to the defense of one of her friends when they needed it. He realized that she was someone who displayed a tremendous depth of character, but he quickly tried to dissuade himself from having any sort of affection for her. On her part, the feelings had always sort of been there from early on, when she had chosen to ask for Professor Grabiner’s advice instead of William’s when running for treasurer. It had been nothing more than a silly crush at that point, but she had no idea she would end up being married to him.

                As the months went by, Professor Potsdam informed her that she was hoping that Tori and Hieronymous would become a proper couple, despite their age difference. She told Tori of Hieronymous’ last relationship with a girl named Violet, who had died when she crossed the Spirit Gate into the Otherworld at Hieronymous’ urging over a decade ago. He blamed himself for her death, and hadn’t been able to move on from it. Professor Potsdam did all she could to encourage their feelings, asking Tori to bring him soup when she was sick and making sure that they had ample amounts of time to get to know each other.

                By the end of the year, on the night of the May Day ball, when everyone else was getting ready for a night of last-minute frivolity before the year officially ended, Tori had made her way up to Professor Grabiner’s room. Although reluctant at first to admit their connection, he at last gave into her feelings and kissed her. It was her first kiss, and while she could not say that it was everything she had hoped it to be, it was enough to plant the seeds to start their relationship. The next day, her parents had picked her up from Iris Academy and brought her back to her non-magical home for the summer.

                Tori was eager to get back to Iris Academy and all she had left behind there: her friends, her husband, her magic….but this is her story. I’ll let her tell it.

* * *

 

                I wiggle a strand of blonde hair in front of my face and frown at myself in my bedroom mirror. A few months ago, Virginia’s older brother William had shown me a trick to combine blue and green magic into turning your hair whatever color you wanted. I had at first changed it to a flaming red as I had once when I was fooling around with Koolaid when I was much younger, but I quickly grew tired of it. After that I dyed my hair a dark blue, a shade or two darker than my eyes, and Virginia and Ellen went on and on about how it was the color of the deep ocean and how pretty it was. I never changed it after that, but now that I’m in my non-magical home for the summer, I had to change it back to its original blonde. I’m sure I could always find some non-magical ways of dying my hair blue, but with magic it was simple: no muss, no fuss, no clean-up or stains. Plus I don’t know how my parents would feel about seeing me with blue hair.

                My parents don’t know about my magical abilities; they’re not allowed to remember. All they know is I’m attending some super-nice boarding school about ninety miles away. If they could really see where I went, a magical school full of people with blue skin or fairy wings or sharp teeth, they probably wouldn’t let me go, which makes the secret-keeping easier, I guess. They definitely wouldn’t have let me go back if they knew what sort of danger I put myself in last year, and they definitely wouldn’t let me go back if they knew I married my professor…

                …even if it was sort of against my will. I was elected as Treasurer of the freshman class which required me to do mail runs at 5 AM on Saturday mornings, which is about as unappealing as it sounds. One morning in late January I walked in to find Professor Hieronymous Grabiner lying unconscious on the ground in the middle of a bunch of sigils and markings, being attacked by a giant demon known as a Manus. I rushed over to try to help him, without realizing that the Manus served his family and Professor Grabiner was protected. I, however, was not, and I felt the world starting to slip away from me. Luckily Professor Petunia Potsdam, who is something of our Headmaster, showed up and saved my life by telling the demon that I was betrothed to the professor. Grabiner agreed to do it to spare my life and we were married that afternoon.

                He wasn’t happy about it, though, and neither was I, to be completely honest. I had to lie to all of my roommates and friends – I couldn’t tell my family anything even if I wanted to, but to know that I had to keep this a secret from the small family I created here at Iris Academy hurt. It hurt even more when Minnie, the class President who served as our witness, spilled the secret to her roommate, who spread it around the entire school. I had never seen Professor Grabiner look angrier than on that day, especially when he threatened to lock me in the dungeons of the school until our contract was up, for a year and a day. But he did apologize once he realized that I wasn’t the one who spilled the secret, and we’ve come to a sort of understanding after that. Professor Potsdam told me that he hasn’t been in a relationship since he watched the soul being sucked from his high school girlfriend right before his eyes after he dared to venture into the Otherworld with her, and encouraged me to try to turn our “contract” into an actual relationship. On the night of the May Day ball, I visited him in his room where we told each other how we both felt, and I ended up leaving with the kiss I didn’t receive on our wedding day. It was a small kiss, short and chaste, but it was my first kiss, from someone who I did genuinely believe cared about me, which is what made it special.  

                 “Tori, you’ve got mail.” My mother’s voice drifted up the stairs and I hopped out of bed eagerly, thundering down the wooden stairs in my bare feet. I picked up the two letters my mother had left for me on the end table near the doorway without seeing who they were from and rushed back to the safety of my room.

                I grinned as I noticed one letter was from Virginia and felt a heat creep into my cheeks when I recognized the stylized cursive of Hieronymous Grabiner on the other. I bit my lip, trying to decide which to open first, before stashing Grabiner’s letter underneath my pillow and ripping open Virginia’s letter. It was a little silly, hiding Grabiner’s letter…he may have been my husband, but I doubted it contained any romantic utterings or secret proclamations of love. Virginia’s letter was much more interesting, anyway, filling me on all the gossip that I was missing out by not being in the magical community. Pastel was last seen kissing Big Steve, although everyone knew that that probably wasn’t going to last longer than a few weeks. The gossip of me and the professor had apparently made its way into all the magical circles (oh great!) but apparently these things happen more than could be expected and she expects everyone to forget about it by the time the new school year starts. Since graduating, William was busy preparing for colleges and Donald was off at summer school. I read between the lines and could tell that Virginia was a bit lonely being home by herself for the summer, but at least she could still see her friends and talk to them about what was going on. I can’t tell my friends or family anything without being threatened to have all my memories wiped, and that’s not something I’m about to let happen.

                I got up from the bed and carried her letter with me to my desk, where I got out a fresh piece of paper and began to draft a reply.

_Hi Virginia. It’s so good to hear from you. I miss you and everyone else at Iris Academy so much sometimes. It’s hard to talk to my parents and friends about anything, it just feels as if we’re in two different circles now. They talk about the news and things going on in the world, and I haven’t heard about any of it. And I can’t tell them absolutely anything about school so…_

                I bite my lip and put the pen down. I can’t send this, it sounds like I’m just being whiny. But what am I supposed to tell her? Things are going well? She isn’t a wildseed like me; she was born into a magical family. I know that sometimes she wishes she was normal, but I don’t think she can really understand how hard it is not to tell your parents absolutely anything like me and Ellen do. Well, did. Ellen chose to stay at school permanently, erasing her parent’s minds of all traces of her. At least I get along with my parents. Well, got, anyway. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to make the same decision that Ellen did. Even if I can’t tell my parents anything, I still love them, and they still love me. I couldn’t imagine never being able to see them again.

                So what do I write about? I run my hands through my hair. Technology isn’t allowed at school so I started reading a lot and studying in the library with Minnie, but I can’t study anything magic-related here, so I’ve just been reading a bunch of silly comic books and watching bad movies to kill time. I tap my pencil against the desk a few times, trying to get inspiration as for what to write, when I turn around and face my bed, realizing that I still haven’t read Hieronymous’ letter.

                I get up nervously and walk over to it, as though it had suddenly gained sentience underneath my pillow. Biting my lip, I snatched up the envelope and sat down on my bed, opening it gingerly. Inside was a small card:

_Tori-_

_I am sorry that your relationship with your parents has not improved. Most wildseeds usually choose to forsake their old families after their second or third years, but you need to choose what is best for you. Potsdam would like to remind you that once again that you are always welcome to come back here any time you wish. You might find your parents particularly amiable to you returning sooner than expected, so long as you ask them directly. In regards to your last question, I have been busy with summer classes so your company has not been sorely missed; however, I would not be opposed to you returning earlier than planned._

_-H_

                I don’t know why, but as I finish the letter, I am grinning like an idiot. Would not be opposed…? Of course I would never expect him to say that he missed me directly, but this was as close as I was going to get. I bit my lip and hopped back to my seat to continue my letter to Virginia.

_...it is what it is. But I have been getting letters from Grabby. He hasn’t said that he misses me directly, but I think he does. He told me that I can return to school whenever I want and I was thinking about coming back sooner rather than later….as lonely as we are, poor Ellen is either miserable by herself or is going to have tons of new friends by the time class starts again!! I’m going to talk to my parents about it tonight. I’ll let you know…_

_Don’t have too much fun without me,_

_Tori_

                I glance at the clock and scamper downstairs for dinner. “Well, someone looks happy,” my father noted as he started putting food on the table. “We were just about to call you for supper.”

                I tapped my nose. “That’s why I came down. Smelled something good.” But good wasn’t exactly the most appropriate word as I looked at the half-burned crunchy mess of pasta shells and goop on the plate in front of me. “What uh, is this?”

                “Your father has been cooking more since you’ve been at school,” my mom says. “This is his version of macaroni and cheese.”

                His version? Of course it had to be his version, because macaroni and cheese was delicious in pretty much any way shape or form, and this was disgusting burnt-cheesy goop. Both my parents ate up as if they didn’t notice anything was wrong. Had my senses been spoiled while I was away at school? I knew the food there was decent, but compared to the food here the Iris Academy Cafeteria seemed to hold a Michelin star.

                “Um, mom, dad, I wanted to talk to you about something,” I say slowly. They continued eating, waiting for me to continue. “Well, um, my friends have been writing to me about their studies, and apparently next year is supposed to be _really_ intense, you know a lot of uh…work and…projects…and I was wondering if I could maybe go back a little…earlier? You know, just to get a head start on the year?”

                “Of course,” my father smiled at me across the table. “We can drop you off this Saturday.”

                “This Saturday?” I asked hesitantly. “I mean, it’s Thursday now, and….I just got back a few weeks ago.”

                “Great,” he smiled at me before digging into another forkful. “I’m so glad you’re keeping up with your studies. Such a smart girl you are.”

                I tried to force a smile back but find I am unable to do so, as my mother talks about how this meant that she actually could attend her Book Club Sunday night. I just sit there and listen quietly, as if I’m a fly in the room, realizing how quickly their lives had moved on without me.

                 I push away from the table and quietly excuse myself as I climb the steps back up to my room. I had always thought that, as an only child, I was closer to my parents than most kids were. But that’s all changed now. Now my parents treat me like a boarder paying rent, exchanging pleasantries, opening up their kitchen to me, but there’s nothing really…there.

                I flop face down on my bed and sigh. Is this what I want? Do I really want to go back to school on Saturday? I search my feelings and find that I’m surprisingly excited to go back. Underneath all the disappointment about the disintegration of my parent’s relationship with me, I want to see Ellen again. I want to hang out with people in the corridors and see Hieronymous again. And I want to do magic.

                I roll over onto my back and sigh, brushing some of the blonde bangs out of my face. And I miss my blue hair.


	2. Chapter 2

                Saturday came faster than expected, although there wasn’t really much to do at home. I thought I would have plenty to do all summer, watching my favorite TV shows and movies and listening to my favorite songs again, but for some reason, none of it interested me anymore. It just felt like that was something the old Tori enjoyed, and this Tori just wanted to read books and learn more about magic. It was strange, realizing that there were two different parts to myself, and I had to wonder if this was because of me going off to school and learning magic, or was this simply because I was growing up.

                Just like last year, I insisted my parents drop me off a little ways from the school so I could walk up myself. Last year I didn’t want my parents to drop me off at the gate because I assumed that there would be a breakdown of kissing and hugging and tearful goodbyes, and I wanted to avoid all of that in front of my new classmates. But this time there was none of that. My parents each kissed me on the forehead and promised to write before hopping back in their van and driving off. I stood on the sidewalk and watched them go, watched their tail lights disappear down the street, before I turned and picked up my suitcase and headed for the school, dragging it along behind me.

                Lucky for me, it was lighter than last year and not overly packed. I knew what I needed and didn’t need now, so it wasn’t stuffed with as many spare clothes as before. I also left all of my decorations back at home. When I first got to school, I had brought a few posters to line the walls, but since I discovered magic, they were no longer necessary. Last year we had used our magic to decorate our dorm ceiling to look like the night sky, complete with twinkling stars. And, because Virginia demanded it, we also saw purple dragons flying overhead now and again.

                I tried to push the thoughts of my parents and how our relationship had changed to the corner of my mind as I saw the school gates, and, just beyond them, Professor Potsdam and Ellen sitting on a school bench waiting for me. They both stood up as I got closer, Professor Potsdam opening her arms in greeting.

                “You’re back!” Ellen exclaimed as I got closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. I dropped my suitcase and hugged her back, smiling at Potsdam over my shoulder.

                “It’s good to see you, dear,” Potsdam says. “How was your trip?”

                “Oh, it was good,” I shrug. “Not too long.” It’s only then that I realize that I hadn’t actually even _talked_ to my parents the whole drive here. They had talked about possibly planning a trip to Napa Valley in late September, and I had just sat back and listened. In retrospect, I might as well have not even been there.

                She must catch the look on my face, because instead of responding, she turns to Ellen. “Ellen, dear, why don’t you run ahead of us and drop off her suitcase in your room, hmm?”

                “I, uh, sure thing.“ Ellen looks confused for a moment, looking between Potsdam and I before nodding her head and scurrying off with my suitcase behind her. “See you later, Tori!” I wave back as she heads down the path to the dorms, and I turn back to Professor Potsdam.

                “Is there, uh, something you wanted to talk to me about?” I ask nervously.

                “No, dear,” she replies sweetly. “Just wanted to take a little walk, that’s all.” She puts her hand on my back as she slowly guides me through the gate, steering me to the left, away from the dorms, towards the walking trails. She waits until we are on one of the dirt paths before speaking again. “Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

                “Um, not particularly?” I ask, choosing my words carefully.

                “I see.” She smiles a knowing smile, as if she knew something that I didn’t. “I then must inquire why you have returned to us so early.”

                A jolt of alarm shoots up my back. I had written Hieronymous and Ellen to tell them that I was headed back this weekend, but I hadn’t explicitly cleared it with her first. “I thought…I’m sorry, Professor Grabiner’s letter said that you, that you welcomed me back at any time, and I just-“

                “Ah,” she sighs. “So you missed him, is that it?”

                “I-“ I pull gently on my earlobe in confusion. “I mean, I _guess_ I did.” I shrug to myself. I had a multitude of reasons for wanting to return so early, but seeing Hieronymous again wasn’t really the chief one. “Is this why you wanted me back? So I could work on our relationship?”

                “That,” she says pointedly. “Is completely up to you. I just find it curious that you seemed to jump at the chance to return as soon as he suggested it.”

                “Virginia wrote me too,” I say defensively. “And Ellen. I missed my friends. I missed magic.” She waits for me to continue. “Is this about my parents?”

                “When Hieronymous came to inform me that you would return this weekend, he mentioned that you might be interested in letting that old part of your life go.”

                 “What?” I feel my face flush with surprise. Why would he tell her that? I mean, sure, I had mentioned things were difficult with my parents, but that didn’t mean that I wanted to sever things between us completely. “Is that the reason I’m back so early? Did he enchant them to take me back to school as soon as I asked?”

                “Did he-?” She pauses in confusion before she laughs, letting the light summer breeze carry her voice. “Didn’t he _explain_?”

                “Explain?” I ask blankly.

                “Sometimes we encounter families that have doubts about sending their child off to boarding school,” she explains. “But once a child turns sixteen and makes The Choice, it is their decision whether or not they want to study magic, _not_ their parent’s. Therefore, your parents have been charmed to return you to the school whenever _you_ want them to, should you ask them directly to return.”

                “I said I wanted to go back, but I didn’t say I wanted to go back _immediately_.”

                “Then when did you ask to come back?”

                “I don’t…think I did,” I say hesitantly, trying to recall. “I just said that I did, and my father said he could drop me off this Saturday.”

                “They are charmed to take any direction from you,” she repeats. “Although it may be difficult for you to understand right now, you returned to school today because you wanted to return to school today. If you wanted to come back to school at the end of July, your parents would have offered to drop you off then.”

                I hesitate, biting my lip. “I still don’t want them to lose their memories of me. I still want to visit them over holidays and everything. They’re still my parents. They’re still my family.”

                “You could have a new family now, if you want one.” I turn to her sharply and she winks at me, pointing through a space in the trees. I turn to where she’s pointing to see Professor Grabiner heading back towards his personal quarters, two thick tomes tucked under one arm.

                 “I don’t know,” I reply uncertainly. “He said he was really busy this summer. He probably didn’t even miss me.”

                “Are you so sure?” she asks. “Why, the happiest I’ve seen him lately is when he was in the mail room, waiting for one of your letters.”

                I feel my cheeks go hot as I stare after him. What can I even possibly say to that? It’s weird enough that he’s my teacher and I’m his student, but it’s almost even weirder that my Headmaster is encouraging our relationship. I turn around to say something, but she’s already vanished, probably teleported away back to her office or something.

                _She wants me to go after him_ , I realize, but I quickly shake my head and turn around, walking back towards the dorms. I’m not quite ready to face him yet. Besides, I want to unpack, catch up with Ellen…I came back to school to spend time with my friends, not to try to seduce my teacher into taking our marriage seriously.

                When I get back to the room, Ellen is there waiting for me. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she says as soon as I walk through the doors. “I’ve been doing nothing but reading since the day you and Virginia left and for the first time it’s starting to get dull.”

                “Dull? Really?” I laugh as I walk over to my suitcase. Ellen has left it on the floor next to my bed. “So who else is here?”

                “Donald,” she replies with a casual shrug. I turn around to meet her eyes, and she quickly looks away. I didn’t go to the May Day dance myself, but I had heard Virginia scoffing that night at how Ellen went with _her brother_. It was a little strange, considering how Ellen had a crush on Virginia’s other brother William at the beginning of the year, but if she was happy, I was okay with it.

                “How’s that going?” I ask.

                “Eh,” she shrugs again and smiles shyly at me. “He’s…nice.”

                “He seems nice,” I say in earnest. I just had the one small suitcase, and it doesn’t take me long to unpack at all. I walk over to the full-length mirror set up behind the door and point to my hair, murmuring something under my breath.

                I can see Ellen wrinkle up her nose behind me in the mirror as my hair turns from a pale blonde to an ugly green to a light turquoise and then getting darker until it reaches a color that’s a shade darker than a royal blue. My hair is a tad longer now and I consider splashing the ends with a bit of violet to lighten it up, but that color is associated with a name and that name has connotations, so I decide against it.

                “I wish I could do that,” Ellen says. “I don’t think my green magic is as advanced enough though.”

                “I spent most of last year just learning mostly blue and green magic,” I shrug. “I figure green magic is good to have on hand if Virginia gets sick again, but I really do love blue magic.”

                “Which means you’re going to have old Grabby-pants for blue magic again this year,” she teases.

                “Wait, what?” I blush as I whirl around to face her. “I thought he only taught freshman?”

                “No,” Ellen shakes her head. “I think blue magic is like, his specialty or something. If you like blue magic, you’ll probably have him as your teacher for all four years.”

                “Oh no,” I sit down on my bed and bury my face in my hands. I can feel Ellen frown at me from across the room.

                “What’s wrong?” she asks. “I thought you two were getting along now, or something.”

                “It’s…”I hesitate before I finally settle on the right word. “Embarrassing. When you left, Potsdam was practically pushing me into having kids with him.”

                “Really?” Ellen asks, and she can’t hide the look of horror on her face.

                “Well, sort of,” I shrug. “She said he could be my new family now or something.”

                “Oh,” Ellen looks down. “Does that mean that you’ve made the decision? About your parents?”

                “No, I don’t want that,” I deliberately look away. I can’t meet her gaze. “I’m not ready for that yet.”

                “No, I understand,” Ellen says quickly. “Everyone’s situation is different.”

                I shrug and get to my feet. “I thought about at least going to say hi to him. Tell him I’m back.” Ellen made a small murmur of agreement. “Um, are these normal clothes okay? I saw a bunch of people walking around in the quad outside but no one was wearing robes.”

                “Oh,” Ellen looks up at me. “Yeah, during the summer, they’re really relaxed with the dress code policy. The only time you’re expected to wear your robes is during class.”

                “Neat,” I grin. “Although I don’t think I’m enrolled for summer classes. Are you?”

                “Um, one,” Ellen says. “But it’s more of an independent study sort of thing. Basically you just learn what you want and a teacher will give you tests designed for what you’re learning as you go along. It’s a good way to learn extra merits too, if you want them. Maybe you should look into it.”

                “Maybe,” I reply, with absolutely no desire to give myself extra homework. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your homework study, or whatever. We’ll hang out more tonight, I promise.”

                “Okay,” Ellen smiles. I smile back as I make my way out the door and out into the corridor.

                I walk to Professor Grabiner’s room slower than my usual pace; letting the realization hit me that this would be the first time I would actually be alone with him since our first kiss. I’m nervous, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m not sure how he’ll react to seeing me, or if it’s because I’m not sure how I’ll react to seeing him. Am I concerned that he will kiss me again? No, I don’t think he will, and yet I would hardly call myself unhappy if he did. Despite his reputation as a miserable, mean, grouchy old man, he was…nice. Or rather, he could be. He was attractive, funny, witty, and he was smart, knowledgeable about the world around him. So what if I had a bit of a crush on him? Wasn’t I allowed to have a crush on my husband?

                His room was on the second floor of the building, and though I took the stairs two at a time, it took me about a solid two minutes before I could work up the nerve to even knock. I took a deep breath and finally knocked, rapping my knuckles against the wood.

                “Who is it?” For some reason, his brash _I-don’t-have-time-for-whoever-this-is_ tone put me a bit at ease.

                “Tori,” I say brightly. I wait, but there’s no response. “Can I come in?”

                I think I hear a sigh from the other side of the door. “If you must.”

                I wrinkle my forehead in confusion and enter his room. He is sitting at his desk, piles of papers in front of him. “Busy with summer classes?” I ask. He raises his eyebrows as he looks up at me but says nothing. “I came back early.”

                “So your letter said,” he replies. He seems to be watching me almost curiously, some kind of amusement playing behind his eyes. Is that a good thing? Is that a bad thing? I can’t be sure.

                “Yes, well,” I look down at my feet as I shuffle them from side to side. “How, er, have you been?”

                “Working,” he replies, gesturing vaguely to the pile of papers on his desk. “Summer classes are just as much work as those during the formal year.”

                “Right,” I breathe. I’m suddenly hyper-aware of my breathing, and I wonder vaguely if it’s my nervousness that’s amusing him so.

                “Is there a reason for this visit?” he asks, turning away from his desk to focus his full attention on me.

                This question I was ready for. “Does a wife need permission to visit her husband?” I ask, pleased that the shaky inflection had left my tone.

                “Yes, well,” he shifts in his chair, and his eyes dart away from me. “This is a finite arrangement, after all. I believe there are only about six months now until the severance.”

                This I was not ready for. I feel my jaw go slack. The last time I saw him, he had kissed me. Throughout all of his letters, he had not been forthcoming with his feelings, but he had at least _hinted_ that he had missed me. And with Potsdam’s speech about how he could be my family now, I assumed that they had at least had some kind of conversation while I was gone to at least give this marriage a chance.

                “I-I thought-“

                “I am aware of what Potsdam has been telling you,” he continues calmly, seemingly unfazed by my reaction. “Despite our interaction last spring, I am still afraid that you are underestimating yourself. You are a very smart girl who is exceptionally…pleasing…to look at. Your romantic prospects can only improve. There is no reason for you to tie yourself to me.”

                I swallow the lump in my throat. This really should not come as such as a shock to me. During my time at home, I had prepared arguments and counter arguments, planned conversations and strategies in my head, prepared for when this sort of conversation might arise. I just did not expect it so soon. “You’re only saying that because you’re afraid if we try to stay together and be a couple, that I’ll eventually leave you for someone else later on and you’ll get hurt.” I cross my arms across my chest. “But when have I ever given you any indication that that would happen?”

                His face flushes and his mouth forms a hard line. “I am aware of my shortcomings. I am not exceptionally attractive, nor am I particularly pleasant to be around. I like my books. I like my solitude. You are still very young, and there are still many people you could meet.” I am about to argue when he holds up his hand. “I know Potsdam has been filling your head with nonsense. After our arrangement in January, we can have a, a friendship, of sorts, but nothing beyond the proper teacher-student relationship. Is that clear?”

                “No,” I say, putting my foot down for effect. I only realize after I have already done it that it makes me look childish.

                “Stubborn girl,” he says as he gets to his feet. “I am acting in your best interests, since that foolish woman seems to have no idea-“

                “Or maybe she does,” I counter. “Maybe I happen to be stupid and stubborn, or maybe I just happen to be exceptionally loyal. I am your wife. I made my vows, and you made yours. Now, I haven’t been a witch for very long but I don’t intend to simply break my word so easily. And-“ I set myself squarely in front of him. “I do actually _like_ being around you, when you’re funny and nice, and not constantly questioning our relationship.”

                He sighs, more frustrated than angry. “I _do_ remember our conversation last spring. There’s no need for you to go off on another one of your speeches.” I keep my gaze steady, refusing to back down. “It seems there is no dissuading you.”

                I let a smile rise to my lips. “I know we didn’t have the most conventional start to a relationship, but I do like you. And you said yourself that you’re fond of me. I want to see where this goes. And besides, it’s still summer school. Technically you’re not my professor for a little while yet, so the whole professor-student argument doesn’t apply.”

                He looks like he is about to argue, then relaxes. “So then, what benefits does this minor technicality award us?”

                My breath catches in my throat. I take a step forward slowly, feeling him tense. I reach up and gently press my lips against his, hovering for a moment and wait for him to kiss me back. When he doesn’t, I pull away slightly, waiting for him to make the next move.

I half-expect him to kiss me like he did the night of the May Day ball. Instead, his hand slips behind my neck and rests in my hair, his other hand skimming my neck and coming up to touch my cheek. I moan slightly as his hand runs down my back and rests on my waist, pushing me closer into him. I relax into him, opening my mouth slightly, gently letting his tongue touch mine. We stay like that for a few minutes, tasting each other, getting familiar with the sensation of his lips against mine.

                He suddenly pulls away from me and won’t meet my eyes. We’re both standing in the middle of his room awkwardly, each waiting for the other to speak next. “I’m not ready for, or asking for, anything more than we did right there,” I say before adding, “…at least, not right now.”

                The corner of his mouth pulls into the semblance of a smile, and there’s a faraway look in his eye. “No, nor am I.”

                I blink at him. “Wait, I mean, you’ve never-“ I bite my lip as he looks away. “I’m sorry, I just thought-“

                “Perhaps you said it best when you were here last? I may have worldly experience, but in this regard, I am just as much a novice as you.”

                I grin at him. “Well, then, we can learn together.”

                His face relaxes. “If you insist.”

                “Okay, but no more talk of the severance or anything,” I say. “It um, it stresses me out.”

                He seems surprised, but relents. “All right.” He turns back to the pile of papers on his desks. “I am extremely busy during the week, but if you so like, you can visit me here on Saturday afternoons. I will dedicate that time specifically to your needs.”

                I can’t help but smile at him. It feels good to see him at least making an effort. “Okay.” I reach up and place a chaste kiss on his lips. He seems surprised, but pleased. “See you then.” As I’m walking out the door, he calls out my name.

                “Tori?”

                “Yes?” I spin around to see him fidgeting awkwardly in the middle of the room. Knowing how confident and self-assured he seems in class, it’s kind of cute.  

                “If you must know, yes, I did miss you after you left.” It looks like it was painful for him to say, but I can only grin as I rush out of the room and shut the door behind me, almost crashing into the door frame as I leave.

                _He really_ does _like me._ It’s more than a little strange to think about how he is my husband, and yet I am still trying to earn his affections, but I try to put it behind me. We have kissed twice now, and he seems like he’s ready to at least try and give us a proper go, and I can’t ask for much more than that.

                I walk outside and stretch my arms up into the warm summer sky and realize that I still have this big stupid grin on my face. I am far too giddy right now; I can’t go back and see Ellen like this. She already thinks that it’s weird enough that I am married to Professor Grabiner. I don’t know how she would react to see me dance around the room like a silly schoolgirl just over the fact that we kissed. In fact, there’s no one I could actually talk to that wouldn’t think I was weird in some way.

                Shrugging my shoulders, I decide to make my way up towards the library. Maybe I should look into this independent study thing after all. It would definitely earn me extra points with Hieronymous, and I could always use more of those. 


	3. Chapter 3

                The rest of the summer continued much in the same manner that the first Saturday had. And it was fun, having these private little excursions where I could go up to Hieronymous’ room and get to know him. Most of the time we would talk, or we would read quietly together, or he would lecture me about magic. And, yes, sometimes we would kiss. It never got very far, but that didn’t really bother me. He was almost double my age but he was as inexperienced as I was, so I agreed to go slowly and take things at his own pace. After all, the school year would be starting soon and he would be back to being my professor again.

                On this day, I was reading a book on the philosophy of green magic. The book talked about how some believed that witches and wizards got their magic through a stronger connection to nature than non-magical folk, and thus all the other magics had their roots in green magic. It was an interesting read, but classes were starting soon, and I just couldn’t pay attention.

                “I kind of miss you yelling at students,” I say idly as I close the book and push it away from me.

                “Oh?” he muses. “Should I start with you then?”

                “No,” I laugh as I flop onto my stomach. “You don’t have to yell at me. Yell at the silly freshmen that are coming in this year. Scare them silly, like you always do.”

                “The silly freshman?” he asks. “You mean the ones that leave love notes on my desk that say my voice is like butter?”

                I freeze, my face going scarlet. “That wasn’t my idea. I-I had nothing to do with that.”

                “I must say, you are quite the poet,” he says dryly. “Although if you prefer to leave me any more poems detailing your affections, I must encourage you to do so in private.”

                I stick my tongue out at him teasingly, but the memory stirred up something else. “Umm, sir?”

                “I’m noticing a startling trend,” he says, more to himself than to me. “You only say ‘sir’ when you are asking a question that you know you shouldn’t be asking.”

                “Or I’m just preparing to get back into classroom mode,” I say, before adding, “Hieronymous” for good measure. He sighs and waits for me to get on with my question. “What did ever happen to him? Damien, I mean?”

                “That is none of your concern,” he says sternly, turning back to his desk.

                “Okay,” I say. “You don’t need to explain _exactly_ what happened, but is it safe? Is he gone for good?”

                He turns back to me quietly, his face not giving much away. “Are you concerned?”

                “I mean-“

                “Did he hurt you?” he asks seriously. “Has he ever-?”

                “No, no,” I say quickly. “I mean he was my senior for orientation, and he, he gave me a pie once and he wanted to be friends, and, and more, later, but, but there was always something, off, about him, and I told him no and he got really mad and he said I would regret it, but I figured it was just an empty threat and he never, like, came after me, or anything. And then I heard about the incident with the freshman boy and I never saw him again.”  

                Hieronymous nods slowly, as if trying to make a decision about something. “He was trying to suck the soul out of a freshman student,” he said at length. “Unfortunately the idiot boy gave his consent and so what Mr. Ramsey did was not technically illegal by magical definitions; but, strictly speaking, that is firmly against school rules and he was expelled. Wards have been set up to make sure he cannot enter school grounds again.”

                “Okay,” I sigh, letting out a breath. I notice that Hieronymous is watching me carefully. Slowly he rises from the desk and sits down next to me on the bed. “In any case, there is nothing to worry about. He cannot enter the school grounds and I have sworn to protect you. While you are under my protection, no one is going to harm you.”

                “Is it bad how safe that makes me feel?” I roll over onto my back, looking up at him.

                He just smiles and bends down to kiss me gently. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him close to me, pulling him closer. His arms snake around my waist and I moan as I shift my weight so he is lying on top of me on the bed. As we kiss, I buck my hips up ever so slightly into him, and he takes advantage of this position in order to slide his hand up the outside of my thigh, his fingertips just lightly gracing my butt. I break the kiss with a grin, nuzzling his nose with mine as he starts to pull away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, embarrassed.

                “No, don’t be.” I tangle my fingers with his as I sit up beside him on the bed. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. We’re going at your pace here.”

                He sighs. “Yes, you have made that quite clear. However, I am supposed to be a bit more mature than you. I should be the one making sure you’re comfortable.”

                “And I am,” I reply. “If I wasn’t, I would tell you.”

                “Duly noted,” he says, looking at his watch. “It’s getting a bit late; you should be getting back to your dorm.”

                “If I must.” I smile, pulling away from him dramatically. I reach forward and kiss him one more time. “Next Saturday is our last Saturday together before you become my teacher again _.”_

 _“_ Oh horror of horrors,” he says sarcastically, and I make a face before heading out the door.

                I am grinning and breathless all the way out of the building. Smiling to myself, I decide to take the long way back along the trails. One night I had returned to the dorm too early, all giddy and breathless, and Ellen started to think that I was starting to go crazy after all. As I walk, I start to hum to myself, enjoying the warm summer breeze. Suddenly I hear a rustling in the foliage and turn around. “Is someone there?”

                I bite my lip nervously before I shake my head. “Okay, Donald, very funny. Ellen will _not_ be very happy with you if you decide to prank me! Believe me, I’ll tell!” But my threat is met only with silence. Frowning, I’m about to turn when suddenly I see a brilliant flash of purple light and a jolt of electricity shoots through my brain…

                “-there you are!”

When I open my eyes, Ellen is kneeling above me, her face inches from mine.

                “Did I oversleep?” I ask cautiously. Suddenly I’m aware that I’m not in my bed, I’m on the ground, outside, on the trails. _What am I doing out here?_

                “You didn’t come back so I went looking for you,” Ellen explains as I get to my feet, using a tree trunk to steady myself. “Did you take a nap out here?”

                “Uh, must have,” I reply sheepishly as I stretch out my muscles. It felt like I was lying out here for hours. “I was just coming from, uh…” I hesitate, coming up empty. “…you know.”

                “Sure,” Ellen says quickly. “Let’s just get you inside, all right?”

                “Yeah,” I take her arm in mine as we head back into the dorm. “Yeah, I better get my sleep schedule back in order before classes start. Old Grabby-pants will have a cow if I fall asleep during one of his classes.”


	4. Chapter 4

                The next Monday, I found out that Virginia was going to be missing the first week of classes due to being ill again. I was sad not to see her, at least not for a little while, but I was assured by a letter from William and a visit from Donald that she was definitely okay, and they just wanted to keep her at home a little longer as a precaution. It was weird not having her peppiness around. Ellen had been vanishing for long stretches of time to do work in the library or hang out more with Donald, leaving me by myself in the dorm alone for most of the week.

                Regardless, the first week of classes came quickly. At Ellen’s urging, I took a mixture of white and green magic the first week. My white magic was nowhere near as good as hers, and the book I had been reading prompted more of an interest in learning more about green magic. If all our magic really did stem from green magic, then shouldn’t a high proficiency in green magic also boost our other skills? It was an interesting theory, and one I was anxious to test. Professor Potsdam was again teaching both classes, so I was glad to have her as a professor again. It was a lot better than classes with Grabby-pants, who constantly yelled and barked at everyone and liked to taunt people into answering trick questions when he felt they weren’t paying attention.  

                After Wednesday’s lesson on white magic, though, it was Professor Grabiner that grabbed my arm when I was talking to Ellen out in the hallway and steered me into an empty classroom. I shifted my weight uncomfortably as he closed the door behind us. He turned around to look at me, although he seemed to have lost his usual edge. He didn’t look nearly as crabby or mean as he usually did. Maybe he finally found a girlfriend or something this summer.

                _“Well?”_ He is unusually close to me, almost in my face.

                “Well, what sir?” I ask blankly, taking a step back from him. My mind races with reasons why he would be mad at me. I had been to all of his classes at least once a week last year, maybe he’s mad that I haven’t been in attendance this year? “Umm, are you mad that I didn’t take blue magic this week? Ellen told me you were teaching it for sophomores this year, but I was already pretty far ahead last year, so this year I wanted to balance it out with-“

                “No you stupid girl.” He took a deep breath in and then let it out again, as if trying to control himself. “Where were you on Saturday?”

                “Um,” I hesitate, thinking back to Saturday. “Just in my room.” He stares at me like he just tasted something sour. “What? I didn’t have detention on Saturday.”

                “Detention?” he asks. He looks as confused as I feel.

                I pull at a strand of hair, trying to figure out what he wants. “Um, I had the final test for my independent study on green magic last Thursday with Professor Potsdam, but she never told me I was supposed to see you on Saturday.”

                He hesitates for a moment, as if he’s considering how to phrase his question the right way. “Do you remember what you said to me last week?”

                “Last week?” I repeat blankly. “Um, no sir. I don’t believe I’ve seen you all summer.”  

                He stares me down, like he’s trying to size me up. Did I do something to get detention and then just forget about it? That doesn’t sound like me at all, but there’s obviously a reason that he’s angry with me. I remember last year, he was the first person I met on campus. I accidently bumped into him looking for my dorm and he gave me ten demerits. But I haven’t seen him all summer. I mean, I’d seen him around campus and stuff while I was going from building to building for my independent study, but I don’t recall ever actually speaking to him about anything.

                He stares at me, his usual grumpiness back. “Must be my mistake.”

                “It’s um, okay, sir,” I say as I push past him. “And I’ll, uh, see you in class next week, Professor.”  

                I can see him nod, but he doesn’t turn around to look at me. I quickly let myself out of the room, into the corridor streaming with other students. That was _so weird._ Seriously. What got into him this summer?

\---

                As soon as she was out of the room, he teleported outside Potsdam’s office. He knocked the only way he knew how, rapping against the door loudly with the side of his fist. “Oh come in, Hieronymous.” Somehow, she always knew exactly who it was.

                “Did you do something?” Usually he managed to draw better answers from her when he was “civil,” as she put it, but he had no time for pleasantries today.

                “Oh heavens,” she laughed. “I might have done something or I might not have, depending on the context to which you are referring.”

                “The girl,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

                “The girl,” Potsdam repeated. “Yes, we have a lot of girls on campus, particularly the new freshman. A lot more girls than boys this year. Which one of them are you talking about?”

                “Tori. Brown.” He could barely get the words out. “Did you do something to her?”

                She smiled sweetly. “I have not spoken to her extensively since we had our little chat about her parents and, other things of interest, when she first came back early this summer, although I did proctor her exam on Thursday. She did extremely well.”

                “Oh,” he raised his eyebrows in mock belief. “Then it would of course interest you to know that she has seemingly lost all memories of what she has been doing all summer, specifically her memories involving me.”

                Potsdam forced a smile, although she found it particularly difficult to do so. “Oh, I’m sure she was just playing a joke on you-“

                “It would seem that she remembers nothing about me aside from the fact that I’m her teacher,” he continued, unable to hide the underlying tone of frustration in his voice. “Which would include she remembers nothing about the marriage _or_ the vows that she made. I trust you know the complications that could arise-“

                “And you think I had something to do with it?” Potsdam asked again.

                “I don’t know if this is one of your little schemes,” Grabiner retorted. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder, but it is a danger to both Ms. Brown and myself to lose any memories at all. That is advanced and highly complicated magic and there’s no telling-“

                “I just had her in class this morning,” Potsdam said. “All of her memories, at least, as far as magic is concerned, are intact. Now if there is some question of her memories regarding you-“ Grabiner crossed his arms across his chest and huffed. “First I must ask, do you believe she may have done this to herself intentionally?”

                “Her magic isn’t advanced enough,” he retorted. “She’s only a second year.”

                “If that’s your argument, I can only assume that you’ve given her some reason to want to forget you,” Potsdam replied. Grabiner’s face flushed and he looked away.

                “No. I was perfectly civil to her during our last encounter. And you know how that girl is. She is probably the only person on this campus besides yourself that is not so easily dissuaded by my temper.”

“True. Regardless, I have been keeping an eye on her and she has seemed nothing short of overjoyed after leaving your company on Saturday afternoons, and I highly doubt you’d be able to upset her enough for her to try to take her own memories. But, rest assured, a student’s memory lapse, however specific, is one for investigation. I will see to it personally.” She smiled reassuringly at him.

                “See that you do,” he said darkly as he turned to leave her office. He didn’t honestly believe that Professor Potsdam was behind this, why would she be? He and Tori had been getting along better that summer than they had all year, and Potsdam clearly had no incentive to unravel all that progress. So who would want to wipe away her happy memories of him? Who would have the motive? Who would even have the skill? Most memory charms were outside the skill range of most fourth year students. Was it another teacher? Someone from outside the campus? He gritted his teeth. As far as he knew, she didn’t have any enemies, but he did. He had _many_ enemies, which meant it could only stand to reason that someone was trying to exact revenge on him through her. But who? And why?

                Professor Petunia Potsdam waited a moment to make sure he was truly gone before she let her happy demeanor slip, her lips twisting to a grimace. Memory charms were not to be messed with. There were many different types of memory charms and they were all forbidden and extremely dangerous. Only the senior students began to get a glimpse of that magic, and even then, they were only taught the basics. If someone truly did wipe Tori Brown’s memories, there could only be sinister motives at play. She paused for a brief moment to discern her next location, then teleported away.  


	5. Chapter 5

                It had been a long and slow week for Professor Grabiner. He noticed Tori in his class again as diligent as always, taking notes and following along but never asking questions. Maybe he was on edge because his _wife_ had forgotten him, or maybe it was because of the stupid pranks that seniors were forcing freshman to pull on him this week. Whatever the case, he yelled more than the usual amount and dealt out harsher punishments than he usually felt inclined to do. During Thursday’s class, he even lit a student’s notebook on fire. He had looked specifically at Tori then, trying to gauge her reaction, but she had looked just as frightened as the rest of them and averted his gaze. That was when he knew that something was seriously wrong.

                He had requested meetings with Potsdam at least every day since her memory disappeared, but it wasn’t until another week had gone by that she finally decided to speak with him, which he was less than happy about. He was about to argue with her on this when he stepped into her office; however, he noticed immediately that the tips of her hair had turned a menacing dark shade of purple and her mouth was set in a firm line. She seemed to drop all pleasantries and take this whole matter seriously, for which he was most grateful.  

                “I had to speak with Tori myself. There are protocols set in place, Hieronymous. This is a very serious issue. Memories don’t just disappear without us knowing about it.”

                “I don’t care how it happened right now. I want to know how you plan to go about remedying this situation.”

                Potsdam sighed. “You should care about both, but I must inform you that several things are happening right now. I have spoken to The Council and we have developed an immediate, if not extreme, course of action, but we all understand the severity of this situation. Someone has used memory magic on an underage student. We are all taking this very seriously; I need you to know that.”

He waits patiently for her to continue. “First, and most importantly, we cannot tip Tori off that anything is wrong. It seems that you are right. She remembers nothing about her time spent with you this summer, or the wedding. When speaking to her about her time she spent in the mornings with you as a treasurer, she appeared confused and couldn’t seem to recall anything beyond basic routine.”

                “Meaning?”

                “It means several things. It may mean her memories have been wiped, but usually if they have been, the brain just fills it in with new memories. The fact that she’s struggling to remember something means her memories might still be there, just shielded. It’s much, much easier than actually wiping someone’s memory, as it involves suspending memories of a certain nature around a specific person. In this case, anything that has to do with any time she had romantic feelings for you. But it would take a certain amount of time and magical ability to actually go through and shield each memory from her.”

                “Can you fix it?”

                “I’m afraid not. This is a very dangerous situation, probably more so than if her memory had been wiped. Each memory charm leaves its own personal mark. We assume simply that her memory was shielded, but we don’t know how, or why, or with what magic.” She pauses, holding her hands out in front of her. “Think of it this way. Her memories are shielded, like they are trapped in a bubble. It’s important that she doesn’t dwell on these memories, or try to fish them out, or she could go too deep into the bubble and become stuck.”

                “Stuck?”

                “In a persistent vegetative state. A coma. She’d be unlikely to wake up if pushed too hard, Hieronymous.”

                He frowned, knotting his fingers together. He was angry, but this was a much different type of anger than he displayed in the classroom. This was, quite clearly, personal in nature. Someone wasn’t just targeting him; they were targeting her as well. “For someone to erase all of her romantic feelings for me, and not all memories of me entirely-“

                “I know what it suggests,” she said darkly, the tips of her hair starting to spark. Potsdam never revealed this side of herself to her students. It was important that she was welcoming to them, that they could come to her with all of their problems. Heck, it was one of the many reasons she knew as much as she did. But one of her students had been attacked and violated, perhaps in an attempt to attack one of her fellow teachers. There was no time for cheerful guises now.

                “Then what are we going to do?” For the first time, he didn’t sound angry. He sounded hopeless. He sounded deflated. He sounded _sad_.

                “A little memory messing of our own,” Potsdam replied, and Grabiner waited for her to elaborate. “This is very serious, and as I said, I have already obtained the Council’s approval. We are to meet with each student and compel the truth from them to see if they know anything. After that, they will have their memories wiped of the compulsion and the marriage as well.”

                “You can’t be serious,” Grabiner exclaimed.  “We’ve already had one girl’s memory wiped. And now you want to do it to the _whole school_?”

                “This is quite different,” Potsdam replied patiently. “Most of what most people know of your marriage are only rumors. They heard it, discussed it, laughed about it, and moved on with their day. These memories are so fleeting, there is almost nothing to erase. It did not change their lives in any significant way, and therefore their lives will not be altered as a result. Their brains will simply fill it in with another conversation, or just forget it entirely. For most people, this is quite a simple matter. It may be a bit harder on her roommates, and we have a special situation for how to address this with Minnie, since she was a witness to your marriage, but we are taking necessary precautions. This is to prevent any danger to Tori’s life as well. If anyone teases her about it, or asks to her about it, she could-“

                “I know.”

                “I doubt the compulsion will get to the bottom of this,” Potsdam continued. “But someone might have seen something, know something. No detail is too small. If they don’t know anything, then there’s no harm in letting them….forget. It’s better for their own protection anyway. We still don’t know who did this or who could be targeted next.”

                “And as for me?” Grabiner asked. “I refuse to have my memory wiped.”

                “Well, of course,” Potsdam answered, letting her tone lighten slightly. “Silly man, none of the staff will have their memories wiped, although they will all have to submit to a truth compulsion, including you.” He glanced at her nervously. “Which will, of course, be personally conducted by myself to ensure…confidentiality.”

                He grimaced. He didn’t like it, but it was better than nothing. “Everyone is aware of the danger this poses to you,” Potsdam continued. “Everyone will keep a close eye on Tori’s behavior, but you most of all.”

                “Her behavior?” he echoed.

                “In the end, she’s still just a teenage girl,” Potsdam replied. “Yes, she has taken her vows, but she does not remember them. If she kisses someone else-“

                “-she would break her vows and die,” Grabiner finished for her. It wasn’t just her vows Tori had to be worried about. Yes she would lose her magic, but if the marriage was broken instead of properly dissolved, the Manus would be back to claim her life due to that stupid stunt she pulled that had gotten them in this mess in the first place.

                “And you, in failing to protect her, will have broken your oath. You could lose your magic,” Potsdam finished. “And your memory would then be wiped.”

                “You can’t-“ he started, but he was silenced with one look from her.

                “We’ve had to do it before,” she said firmly. “We have done it before. Or do I have to remind you?” He couldn’t meet her eyes. He remembered how upset she was. How she had begged and how she had pleaded. But rules were rules and for that The Council made no exceptions. If you broke an oath, or a vow, or even a promise, your magic and your memories would both disappear. There were no exceptions. That’s how they had all survived within the magical community for as long as they had without any interference from non-magical folk, and there could be no exceptions. Professor Petunia Potsdam knew that better than he could understand right now.

                “Keep an eye on her.” Her expression darkened. “You know the consequences if you don’t.”


	6. Chapter 6

                Things seemed to finally return to normal when Virginia got back to school. She was ready for club signups again, never letting slip that she had probably been seriously ill no more than a few weeks ago. We were all sitting around in our room discussing if we wanted to change the ceiling decoration this year when there was a knock on the door.

                “You want to get it?” I ask, looking at Virginia. “Maybe someone here to see you?”

                “Probably Donald,” Virginia says, winking at Ellen. “Maybe you should get this one.”

                I raise an eyebrow as Ellen stands obediently to answer the door. Virginia simply shrugs as I slump back on my bed. The last I knew, Virginia was having reservations about Ellen dating her brother, but if they had worked it out, good for them. It was none of my business, anyway.

                “Flowers?” We hear Ellen exclaim, and we immediately perk up and crowd around her at the door. Standing in the corridor was a skinny boy with flaming red hair and freckles, grinning up at us.

                “Flowers for you lovely ladies,” the boy says. “My name’s Thomas, but you can call me Tommy if you want. I’ve been instructed to hand out flowers to each girl’s room for the senior prank.”

                “That doesn’t seem like much of a prank,” Virginia says with a huff. “Who are they from?”

                “I’m not supposed to say,” Thomas mutters, seemingly a little embarrassed. He holds the bouquet of multi-colored roses out for Ellen to take, but Virginia slaps her hand away.

                “No way! This isn’t fun if it’s not embarrassing in some way.” She thinks for a moment. “I know! Thomas, hand the flowers to whichever one of us you think is the prettiest.”

                “Virginia,” Ellen scolds while I just shake my head. “Sorry, Thomas. This is Virginia. She can be a little weird sometimes.”

                “It’s okay,” Thomas shrugs good-naturedly. He reaches past Ellen and holds the bouquet directly in front of me.

                “Thank….you…” I murmur awkwardly, the color rising in my cheeks as I accept the roses. Virginia is cackling like mad, but Ellen just looks relieved that it wasn’t her.

                “Have a lovely day ladies,” Thomas says with a wink as he walks off, pulling a cart of flowers behind him.

                I blush and toss them down on Virginia’s bed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

                “Of course I did,” Virginia responds. “And look, now you’ve got yourself a boyfriend.”

                “Oh my-“ I rub at my temple lazily. “He’s a _freshman_. Seriously, he looks like he’s about 12 or something.”

                “I thought he looked kind of cute,” Ellen offers, blushing slightly.

                “Uh oh, does this mean I have to tell Donald he’s been replaced?” Virginia teases.

                “No!” Ellen exclaims. She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Anyway, it’s glad to see that the seniors are actually doing _nice_ stuff for people this year.”

                “Yeah,” I shrug absently. I want to say something about the love letter Damien made me write that got me in so much trouble with Grabby last year, but I don’t want to think about it. Damien is a repulsive jerk and Grabby is a mean grouch. I’m just glad the whole thing is over with.

I feel like there’s something else, something nagging at the corner of my memory, but I brush it aside. “Want to go to the mall on Saturday? I heard they got new stuff in the magic shop this summer.”

                “Oh really?” Virginia asks. “There’s a pair of gold bracelets that I saw in there before I left for the summer. Hopefully they still have them in stock.”

                “Oh I can’t,” Ellen says cautiously. “I have a…a…”

                “A date?” Virginia asks. “With my _brother_?”

                “A meeting,” Ellen responds, but leaves it at that.

                “That reminds me,” I turn to Virginia. “Aren’t sign-ups for class president and treasurer soon?”

                “Soon,” Virginia shrugs. “I don’t know, without William here to help us along, I don’t care as much.”

                “Well, I was just wondering, since I was treasurer last year, is there anything special I’m supposed to do? Like am I supposed to campaign again? Is it expected? Or should…I…not?” A strange look has glazed over both of their faces. “Hello? Earth to Virginia?”

                “What?” Virginia slaps my hand away from her face. “I was just thinking. Umm…” She seems unnerved. “Yeah, you’re supposed to run again. I think. I don’t know, you’d have to talk to Grabby about that. Or Minnie.”

                “Minnie seems like the safer bet,” I say as I sit down on my bed. “Grabby’s so temperamental, he almost gave me detention the first week of class for no reason.”

                “I keep telling you, he’s so weird,” Virginia shrugs. “Luckily there’s a new professor for red magic, Professor Coleman, so I don’t need to put up with Grabby anymore.”

                “Professor Coleman?” I ask, leaning over the side of my bed. “I haven’t taken red magic yet. Is he nice?”

                “I think you mean, is he hot, to which I will say, very,” Virginia says as she winks at me.

                Ellen groans. “Is that all that you two think about?”

                “Hey, you are the one with a boyfriend,” Virginia says, coming over to throw her arm around my shoulder. “Tori and I are both single and very much unattached.”

                I grin and giggle along with her, but there’s something in my gut that just doesn’t feel right. I pass it off as a wave of homesickness and excuse myself to go walk around the quad. It’s a sunny day outside and there are plenty of people milling about.

                “Hey, Minnie!” I spot her across the quad and run over. “How are you doing? How was your summer?”

                “Good.” She seems a bit unsure of herself, but then again, she always seems that way. I hope that things with Kyo haven’t started up again. “How are you doing?”

                “Good,” I shrug. “Um, listen. I was wondering, are you campaigning for class president again?”

                “Of course.” This is met with a smile. “I intend to be class president through all four years here.”

                “Oh, I didn’t know that was allowed,” I say. “So does this mean I can run for treasurer again too?”

                “Oh…you….want to?” She seems honestly taken aback. “I, um, I wasn’t sure I…” I frown and wait for her to continue. She seems to make her mind up about something before she speaks again. “I actually was thinking of asking Jacob to run with me for treasurer.”

                “Are you two dating?” I ask with surprise.  

                “No,” she says, but seems to hesitate. Maybe they’re not at that point yet? “Anyway, I mean, you can run, if you want. I won’t stop you, but…” She smirks at me. “I guess this means you’ll have a little competition.”

                “I guess,” I say good-naturedly, although I’m not really sure how it sounded when I said it. As she walks away, I can’t help but feel like there was something else she didn’t want to tell me. I haven’t seen Kyo yet, but maybe she wants to keep Jacob around to keep him at bay. I’m not sure.

                “Hey you.” Something breaks me out of my thoughts. I turn around to see Thomas standing behind me.

                “Oh hey,” I reply. “Finish delivering flowers?”

                “Yup,” Thomas grins. “Now I’m giving free rides to people to get them where they need to go.”

                “Rides?” I ask blankly. I glance behind him but I don’t see a cart or anything.

                “Piggyback rides!” He replies. I try to cover my confusion. Piggyback rides? He is just a little bit shorter than me, and doesn’t _look_ very strong… I would hate for him to drop me out in the quad in front of everyone.

                “Man, this senior prank thing really got turned on its head,” I say, echoing Virginia. “But that’s okay, Thomas. I’ll walk.”

                “No, please, I insist,” Thomas says and I hesitate. He is standing there with a cocky grin that reminds me of Donald: innocent, but harmless.

                “Oh, all right.” I give in. He cheers as he comes around from behind me. I squeal as I suddenly feel myself being hoisted into the air as he seats me on his shoulders. I giggle nervously and put one hand on his shoulder to steady myself, wrapping my legs around his arms for support. “How are you doing this?”

                “Magic,” he says. He must be surprisingly strong and more muscular than he looks under his robes, as I feel extraordinarily stable on his shoulders. “Hold on I’m going to run!”

                “Noooo,” I squeal as he takes off running, with me struggling to keep a grip on his shoulders. I squeal as we run around the quad and through the trails, where I see other people also being carried along in a similar manner, although none of them seem to have as much fun as we’re having.

                “Where to next, m’lady?” Thomas shouts up at me.

                “Back to my room, I think,” I say, pointing dramatically ahead of me. “To the dorms!” He begins to race off at breakneck speeds as I hold on and squeal as the warm air hits my face. As we pass one of the academic buildings, I can see Professor Grabiner glaring at us from beneath the shadows. Oh great, am I going to get detention for being too noisy? Or for having too much fun? I consider sticking my tongue out at him or giving him a friendly wave, but that might earn me more trouble than it’s worth. Instead I just pretend that I don’t even see him as we ride along past as I whoop and holler the whole way back.

                “Thank you,” I say as he sets me down gingerly.

                “No problem…” he hesitates and I realize he’s fishing for my name.

                “Tori.”

                “Tori,” he grins. “That’s a pretty name.”

                I just shrug. “It’s my name. Well, see you around, Thomas.”

                “Actually-“ he hesitates, and I turn around to face him. “I was wondering, I heard you were really good at blue magic and, I don’t know if you know Professor Grabiner, but-”

                “Oh, old Grabby pants?” I ask. “Yeah he can be tough to have as a teacher. School’s barely started and he already lit someone’s notebook on fire last week.”

                “Yeah, he kind of scares me,” Thomas laughs. “But I was wondering if you might consider tutoring me? In blue magic?”

                “Um,” I hesitate. “I mean, I’m not really an expert. Maybe ask one of the seniors? They would know more than I would.”

                “Please,” Thomas begs. “They’re all too busy with their own projects and stuff. The first exam is coming up soon and I’m really, really nervous.”

                “Oh, the first exam isn’t that bad,” I say. “But I mean, I _guess_ I could. At least until you guys pick the class president. They usually hold tutoring hours in the library on Saturday’s if you’re interested in more study.”

                “Thanks, Tori!” he says. “See you around.”


	7. Chapter 7

                Professor Grabiner was frustrated. The “search” of the student’s minds led nowhere, as he quite expected he would. Anyone who did this to Tori definitely had a lot more magical knowledge than any of the students here.

                Even though Tori was the one who’s life was in imminent danger, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself, especially after seeing her running around the quad on the back of a freshman boy, shrieking and wooping and having a grand old time. He wasn’t jealous, no, not so much as hurt. And confused. That was one word that accurately described his feelings right now. Everything about their situation was wrong. Their marriage had been a means to an end, a way to save her life and nothing more. And yet during her final exam, her roommates had indicated that she may have harbored feelings for him even _before_ that incident. And she seemed resolute to make things work, both the night of the May Day ball and when she returned. He figured when she returned home for the summer she would cast off her childish affections for him, but she seemed to return with more resolve than ever.

                But that wasn’t it. The fact was that they had spent the past few months of summer getting to know each other, even if it was just for brief Saturday afternoon visits that got longer and longer as the weeks passed. He had started to open up to her, in ways that he hadn’t opened up to anyone else in over a decade. And just when he had started to feel comfortable with her, she was gone. Not even gone. She didn’t remember him. Well, at least not the him that she had come to know. Now he was back to being the crabby old professor that the students hated. He thought he would have an easier time putting up with it this semester, knowing that she was there to understand _why_ he was so hard on them, but the fact that she didn’t even remember what she seemed to figure out for herself was daunting. Was it only her silly romantic notions that allowed her to see the good in him? Or, more fearfully, perhaps she never saw the good in him at all, simply because there was no good to be had. He was a grouchy mean teacher who was mean simply for the sake of it, and that was it. That was all he was.

                He shook his head. He had never really questioned or burdened himself as to how students saw him the way they did until she came along. The whole thing was ridiculous anyway: she was his student, he was her professor. He shouldn’t be _feeling_ anything towards her and yet…how had she put it…? That he was her professor for three more years, but would be her husband for life. He found the whole concept ridiculous and yet…sweet. No one wanted him. No one expressed interest in his life. Not that he really invited anyone to, he had pushed them all away after he watched Violet’s life get sucked away in the most gruesome way possible. How was he supposed to talk to people after that? How could they understand? They all seemed to move on so quickly, but he vowed to never move on. And for the past ten or so years he had done just that, pushing away anyone that got close…

                …and now he was married. He honestly felt pity for that poor girl at first. She was very pretty, very bright, and very smart. She worked hard and had a natural talent for magic. She would have undoubtedly ended up with a nice young boy at some point, if the whole school didn’t know their affairs. Although, he stopped to think, none of the school _did_ remember now. Once Tori’s memories were set straight and the marriage was dissolved, she was free to pursue other romantic interests without concern that they would be tainted by their previous connection. Tori’s mind would have to be wiped of the whole affair, safely, of course, but now that he could see that she would be happy and get along fine without him, it honestly made the blow so much easier to take. He had his wounded pride, but that was all. So he had opened up to her? It would scarcely matter, as she would no longer remember anything he had said to her anyway. His privacy and personal life would once again be left to the vicious speculations of bitter students, as it should be. He learned a valuable lesson about not playing around with his Manus with students so nearby, and he would never get close to anyone ever again.

                He stopped just short of making that a solemn vow.

                He was proctoring the freshman student’s first exams when in came that little red-headed boy that Tori was playing around with. He sneered as he teleported the boy into the dungeon, already preparing what to say to make this boy cry when he failed. The boy looked around at the walls and ceiling curiously before focusing on the main wall in front of him as Grabiner waited with disinterest to see which magic the boy would choose to free him of the dungeon. The girl who had taken the test before him had tried to use white magic to convince the spirits to help her out. _Foolish girl…_

                Suddenly he was distracted as the boy muttered something under his breath and the wall blasted out in front of him. A look of shock and alarm crossed over Professor Grabiner’s face. He should _not_ have been able to do that. The boy didn’t investigate into the darkness further; just seemed to sit back and wait to be teleported back out. Professor Grabiner hesitated a moment before he did just that.

                “How did I do?” The boy asked. He seemed to be looking for some sort of praise, some sort of a reaction. “Did I pass?”

                “You passed.” Grabiner was determined not to give anything away. He said nothing more than that.

                “But did I like, do good? Did I get an A?”

                “An A?” Grabiner mused. “You are a wildseed, then, to expect us to use such an archaic grading system?”

                “I, uh, I am,” Thomas replied.

                “Then that was an adequate display of your skill,” Grabiner said. “Now get out.”

                “But-“

                “Out. Unless you would like to spend your Saturday afternoon in detention with me, trying to dig through that wall with a spoon.”  

                Thomas sulked but left the room. Gardiner quickly finished up with the rest of the students and then rushed off to find Potsdam...

                …who did not seem to share his concerns. “So he blasted through the wall? Many of the students have already attacked it; it was probably weakened from their collective blow and then just gave in when it was his turn. Two students were able to do it last year, it’s nothing new.”

                “Those two students were already raised with magical ability,” Grabiner argued. “And I have seen them both in all of my classes. But I have rarely seen this boy, and he doesn’t seem the type to pay attention. This is too advanced magic for a wildseed to grasp a few weeks into classes.”

                “Perhaps he received extra tutoring assistance from Professor Coleman,” Potsdam suggested. “Or maybe Ms. Brown.” Grabiner’s eyes snap up to meet hers. “Oh, come now. You know I have eyes on that girl at all times.”

                “Then you know-“

                “That they have been spending a healthy amount of time together,” Potsdam replied. “I have already compelled him, and there was nothing strange about him. He’s a normal wildseed boy from a normal family. He just seems to have a healthy natural dose of red magic, is all.”

                Grabiner huffed. “I still don’t trust him.”

                “Then by all means don’t,” Potsdam exclaimed. “Keep a closer eye on him, if you want. We still don’t have any leads as to who did this to Tori, or why, but in the meantime, you need to keep your jealousy in check around the other students.”

                “My jealousy-“ Grabiner gritted his teeth. “I am _not_ jealous of-“

                “Yes, yes, of course, you’re just as bitter and broody as always.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Honestly, I would have thought your relationship with Ms. Brown would have boosted your mood slightly, despite all this.”

                “It might have, if she could remember it,” he snarled. “It doesn’t matter. Come January this whole thing will be over and then we can wipe her mind too so everyone in this school forgets that it ever happened.”

                With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. Potsdam hesitated, but decided it was best to just let him go. She should probably tell him soon, but it wasn’t time yet. Hopefully they would get this whole thing sorted out by Christmas, and then she wouldn’t need to tell him at all.


	8. Chapter 8

                It’s the early hours of the morning when I awake to a knock on my door. Both Virginia and Ellen are asleep, so I get up slowly, rubbing my eyes as I go. “Tommy-?” I ask quietly as I open the door. My eyes blink to adjust to the lightning and instead I see…Professor Grabiner. Ellen groans and stirs as the light from the corridor hits her and I immediately step out into the hallway with Grabby-pants and shut the door a bit behind me, keenly aware that I am in a night shirt that is way too short to disguise the fact that I am only wearing panties.

                “Umm, sir…” I begin.

                He holds up his hand to stop me. “I have simply come by to deliver your campaign materials, as there have been some changes from last year.”

                “Campaign?” I blink at him. “Oh, I don’t think I’m running this year, sir.”

                “Oh?” I still haven’t looked at him directly. The lights are really bright and I still feel half-asleep.

                “I, um, Minnie said she wanted to run with Jacob as her…running mate, or something, so I figured I’d let her have it.”

                “Despite what Miss Cochran may want, it is tradition for you as the former treasurer of the freshman class to at least run. I’ll expect you in my office this afternoon to discuss campaign strategies.”

                I sigh as I take the book from him. “Custom is the king of all, I guess.”

                “What was that?” he snaps, and his tone finally got me to look at him directly.

                “It’s…just a phrase I heard, somewhere.” I yawn into my elbow. “Sorry, I’m really tired. Can I go back to bed now, sir?”

                “Of course, Ms. Brown,” he says, but there’s something in his tone that suggests he has more to say. I give it a second, but when no words come, I walk inside and shut the door behind me.

                “Was that crabby pants outside?” Virginia murmurs groggily.

                “Yeah, campaign stuff,” I murmur as I pull the blankets back over me.

                “And you went out dressed like that?” Virginia giggles sleepily. “I bet old Grabby was checking you out.”

                “Psh,” I say and roll over, because there is nothing else to say. Regardless, something about what she says stays with me, and I fall into a fitful sleep.

                Today is my first class with Professor Coleman and Virginia is right. He is hot. Very hot. Tall, short dark hair, just a hint of facial scruff, his muscles barely being contained by his robes. Considering the attendance to his classes, I’m guessing he’s the object of affections of both boys and girls alike. He’s sure to get a ton of Valentine’s Day cards next year. Even Ellen, who usually isn’t fond of red magic, is in attendance. There’s something calm and authoritative about the way he teaches, showing us that with red magic you had to be calm, but disciplined. Trained, but reckless. It was almost like a philosophy, and it was _much_ different than the way Professor Grabiner ever taught his classes.

                After class, I’m about to leave with Ellen and Virginia when he calls me over. Virginia winks at me, and I let Ellen literally drag her away as I turn to face him. “Hello, sir.”

                “Ah, Tori,” he says. “First time I’m seeing you in class.”

                “Yes, er,” I hesitate. “Virginia recommended your lectures. She said that they were very, um, educational.”

                “Did she now?” Coleman mused. “Your roommate’s got a great grasp on the red arts, but she could use a bit more discipline. She’s a tad reckless.”

                “Oh she totally is,” I agree.

                “Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about,” he continued. “Thomas mentioned to me that you have done a fantastic job tutoring him for the exam.”

                “Oh, um, thank you,” I say, then pause. “I’m sorry, how do you know Thomas? I thought Professor Grabiner was the teacher for red magic for freshman.”

                “He is, but Thomas has been coming to me personally for lessons,” he says. “Finds Grabiner a little hard to swallow.”

                “Doesn’t everybody?” I say lightly, and he chuckles in agreement.

                “Yes, he’s…difficult, to say the least.” He cocks his head to the side as if he’s about to continue, but then decides against it. “Anyway, Tori, I don’t know if you know, but this is my first year teaching here at Iris Academy and I’m glad to see students helping each other learn. If you need anything, anything at all, don’t be afraid to come to my office.”

                “Oh, um, thank you, sir,” I stammer as he shakes my hand. It’s so big it completely envelopes mine.

                “Oh, please,” he waves his hand dismissively. “I know how the other teachers can be, but feel free to call me Jason.”

                “Okay,” I stammer. “Jason.” With a pleasant nod and a wink, he walks off and I’m left standing there, my hand still dangling in mid-air where he left it, a bright crimson flush across my cheeks.

                “Oh my gosh-“ Virginia comes rushing in almost as soon as he’s out of the room. She dashes over and hugs me as Ellen simply rolls her eyes behind her. “I saw that! He winked at you!”

                “He was being….friendly?” I offer.

                “Oh please.” Virginia gives me a look. “He told you to call him _Jason_. You’re on a first name basis already.”

                “Virginia-“ I grab her arm as someone enters the room.

                “Admit it, you totally have the hots for him,” Virginia teased. By this point, Ellen let out a small cry of alarm that caused Virginia to whirl around. “Oh…Professor…Grabiner.”

                He narrowed his eyes at them but did not look at me. “Miss Brown I thought you were supposed to meet me in my office to discuss your campaign?”

                “We held her up, we’re sorry,” Ellen says quickly, grabbing Virginia’s arm and pulling her out of the room. “We’ll just, be uh…going.” Virginia shoots me a quick look of embarrassment before they duck out of the room. Professor Grabiner shuts the door behind him and I feel my stomach lurch. I can feel the heat on my cheeks.

                “I don’t like to be kept waiting, Miss Brown,” he says as he turns around. He looks angry.

                “I’m sorry, sir,” I say quickly, looking down at my feet. “It’s…it’s not their fault. Ja-Professor Coleman wanted to, uh, speak to me after class.”

                “Oh, is he the one you have the hots for?” he asks. My eyes immediately dart up to his face, my jaw dropping open slightly. He’s _taunting_ me.

                “I don’t- no – I am not….attracted to my teacher…sir,” I stammer awkwardly. He seems to be enjoying my awkwardness.

                “Oh no? Then who are you attracted to?” His voice is plain but there is an unmistakable note of cruelty hidden in there somewhere.

                I bite my lip for a moment, thinking, before looking back up at him. “Just my studies, sir.” I keep my face as straight and earnest as possible, and the answer seems to satisfy him.

                “Good girl,” he relents. “That’s all you should be concerned with at the moment.” I sigh, and can almost feel an invisible weight lift from my shoulders. “Now as far as your campaign goes, have you given any thought to your campaign name?”

                “Can’t it just be the same stuff as last year?” I ask.

                “Lady Lampshade Head?” His face falls, and I blush.

                “It’s still unique,” I say. “And people will remember it, and that I won, so, that should give me some points, maybe?”

                “Perhaps,” he says. “Is there any money you want to spend on your campaign?”

                “No,” I shake my head. “I still have the extra old posters and badges in the mail room from last year.”

                “And who’s going to help you campaign this year?” he asks. “Your roommates?”

                “Yeah, Virginia and Ellen.” I count them off on my fingers. “Donald will probably help too. He’s Virginia’s brother, maybe some others, and uh, Thomas, I guess.”

                “That freshman boy?” He raises an eyebrow.

                “Yes, well,” I stammer. “I’ve been tutoring him and-“

                “I don’t want you _tutoring_ anyone,” he says sharply. “You’re only a second year and there’s a lot that you don’t know and a lot that could go wrong.”

                I pout. “But Professor Coleman said-“   

                “He is new here,” Grabiner said sharply. “He doesn’t know our rules, but I’ll make sure to…enlighten him.” A smirk spreads across his lips. “Any other questions?”

                I bite my lip. “No sir.”

                “Then I suggest you get back to studying.” I dip my head and make my way past him out into the corridor with a huff. Did I even want to campaign? If I won, it would mean putting up with Grabby for another whole year…. _Do I really want that?_ I frown and make my way towards the dorms. Hopefully Ellen and Virginia will be able to help me figure that out.  


	9. Chapter 9

                “Of course you’re running!” Virginia practically shouts at me when I explained my dilemma. “Someone needs to represent Horse Hall! No one else in any other years is running.”

                “But,” I squirm on my bed. If I don’t run, Virginia is never going to let me live this down. “But Grabby-“

                “Oh come on,” Virginia rolls her eyes. “You see him for…what? Five minutes in the morning? That’s not so bad, is it?”

                “At 5 AM in the morning,” I huff. “I need my sleep too or else I’ll be as crabby as he is!”

                “You’re running!” Virginia says, as if that puts an end to it. “You already have all of your campaign materials and everything, and you have all of else helping.”

                I sigh. “Okay, but what about Minnie and Jacob?”

                “What about them?”

                “She seemed _really_ determined to have Jacob win with her,” I say. “I mean, how awkward would it be if Minnie is mad at me all year because Jacob didn’t win?”

                “Well, then, she wouldn’t be a very good class president, would she?” Ellen pipes up. We both turn to look at her. “I just mean that everyone is voting in this, so we all have a say in who gets elected. There are a lot of people who don’t like Jacob. Short of bribing people off, I don’t know who else is going to vote for him besides her and her friends from Butterfly Hall.”

                I tip my head to the side. Minnie may not like to admit it, but Jacob’s holier-than-thou attitude has made him quite unpopular with the rest of the class. Winning the treasury position may only inflate his ego. “All right,” I say at last. “I’ll run.” Virginia cheered from her bed while Ellen just smiled.

                The most awkward part of campaigning last year was how to stand out. “Lady Lampshade Head” was a unique slogan, but it hardly got me noticed in the sea of other people screaming their names and doing magic tricks with sparklers. Finally Donald got the bright idea to let him and Thomas run around and dance with lampshades on their head. Donald was popular with pretty much everybody, or at least known by everyone for his crazy pranks and antics, and so he attracted a lot of attention.

                When it came time to recite the speeches, I stuck to the same script that I had written out last year. It won me the slot before, so why not?

_Hi everyone, my name is Tori Brown and I am running for class treasurer. In managing money, I will increase accountability through careful record-keeping so that everyone can see exactly where funds come from and how they are used. It will be my job to manage class fundraising events. I will create new events so that we can reach out to new populations and be more successful than ever. And the most important thing that I bring to the table as treasurer is my math skills, because I can count pretty well! Thank you for listening, and please vote for Lady Lampshade-Head!_

                It’s again met with a round of polite applause, broken only by the sound of Donald whooping and stamping his feet on the ground. I sit around patiently with Virginia, Ellen and Donald until it’s my turn to vote. I am honestly considering voting against myself when Ellen runs back up to us and tells us that Professor Grabiner is sitting in the room to make sure there is no “funny business” with the elections. I never heard of anything funny with the elections happening before, but I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have a teacher oversee everything to make sure no one used magic to rig the elections. Maybe that was one of the things that he was talking about when he said there had been changes this year? Just like last year, I hadn’t actually read the book so I wasn’t sure.

                Slowly we all line up in one giant line, waiting for everyone to have a turn at voting. To ensure the integrity of the votes, we mark our ballots on a slip of paper, no magic allowed. As I walk into the room to place my vote, I notice that Professor Grabiner is sitting in a chair in the far corner, reading a book. To my relief, he doesn’t glance up at me when I walk in.

                I immediately pick up the first piece of paper on my left and check off Minnie’s name on the ballot slip and drop it into the class president box. Just because she didn’t want me to win the treasury position didn’t mean I didn’t want her to be class president again. She had helped me out a lot last year, tutoring me in black magic, and so I kind of owed her one for that.

                But I am far less sure on who to pick for class treasurer, as I hover with my hand over the ballot. Either me or Jacob…

                I twist my head from the table to look up at Grabby. He still hasn’t acknowledged me. As I stand there, leaning over the table, a pulse of emotion flows through me and I immediately drop my eyes. It felt like a vessel just popped in the back of my brain, although I’m not sure why. For some reason, I _need_ to be treasurer in that moment, like I had done something important as treasurer or would do something important, it’s not quite clear, but all I know is I’m struck with an overwhelming need to be treasurer again.

                I ignore a light tingling in the back of my brain as I look down and see that I had already made a slight mark in the box with my name in it. I sketch it in so it looks like a big check mark and then throw it in the appropriate box. I drop the pencil down and quickly make for the exit. As I’m about to turn the knob on the handle, I hear a faint, almost ghost-like voice behind me. “Good luck, Ms. Brown.”

                “Thank-thank you, sir,” I stammer as I make my way out of the room, almost bumping into the doorway as I did so.

                Ellen and Donald are excitedly chatting when I walk back in, while Virginia is talking to some students from the Butterfly house. I contemplate sitting by myself, but ultimately decide to go closer to Virginia. As soon as she sees me, she immediately waves me over. “If you don’t win, you can thank these girls. They all voted for Jacob.”

                “It’s fine,” I say quickly, immediately regretting my decision to sit with her. Fortunately they start talking about sports, and I sit and listen quietly while I’m waiting for them to finish the voting.

                What had happened to me in there? The light tingling in the back of my brain had faded now, but I was still left with an overwhelming feeling of uncertainty. At first I would suspect that Grabiner had used some type of magic on me to check my own name, but that didn’t make any sense. Grabiner didn’t prefer me over Jacob, at least to my knowledge, and Professor Potsdam had just gone over how to know when someone is using a spell on us in white magic class last week, and I didn’t feel anything. At least nothing besides that weird pop in the back of my brain. What was that about?

                Finally, Professor Potsdam comes out and gets us all to quiet down to announce the new class officers. Minnie Cochran, of course, was the class president again and Tori Brown was the class treasurer, again. It takes me a second to realize that she’s saying my name, and it doesn’t fully register until I feel Virginia hugging me with both arms from behind as she whoops and hollers in my ear. From down on the gym floor, I can see Donald with a lampshade on his head, doing the same dance that he had done out in the quad. For some reason, this is enough to shake me out of my stupor, and I smile and grin along with everyone else and thank everyone who congratulated me – even Jacob.

                It’s not until I make it back to my dorm later that I am able to register the feeling I had when Professor Potsdam had said my name. Surprise. Most of the discussion in the gym had leaned towards a lot of people voting for Jacob, not me, especially when he had spent his money on those expensive customizable cupcakes. Unless they were lying about who they voted for, how could I possibly have gotten enough votes?

                I consider talking to Virginia, or even Ellen about it, but what am I supposed to say to them? I think the election was somehow rigged in my favor? Professor Grabiner was in the room to ensure that no one could do that, which meant that the only person who could have possibly rigged the election was Professor Grabiner himself. And why would he do that? It’s no secret he hates me, given how often he’s been picking on me in class lately. No, there’s no point in talking to anybody about it, there’s nothing anyone can do about it anyway. The elections over, and I won, probably fair and square. Maybe I only want the election to be rigged so I can get out of a position I wasn’t sure I wanted in the first place.

                I let out a deep breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.  Well, however it came about, I’m treasurer now. And my prize? A whole year of 5 AM Saturday mornings with Grabby-pants. _Greatttt._

_\---_

                As soon as the last student made his decision, Professor Grabiner stood up and placed the book down quietly behind him. With a flick of wrist, the door’s lock clicked into place as he magically sorted through the contents of each box. First: class president. He dumped them all in a large pile and, with a quick utterance under his breath, let them sort themselves. The papers that checked Minnie’s name floated to the left, and the papers that checked Suki’s name floated to the right. Even halfway through sorting, it was obvious that Minnie won by a landslide.  

                Moving on to more _pressing_ matters, he started to sort the votes for class treasurer. It wouldn’t be hard to rig the votes. After all, he was the only one who saw them, and, especially considering that everyone had forgotten that they were married, assumed he had no reason to favor her in any way. He had already bullied her in class a little more than usual to drive the point home that he didn’t prefer her over anyone else.

                But as the piles sorted themselves, they seemed to land pretty much…evenly. He paused, frowning at the pile. They looked exactly even. He sighed and pulled over a chair and began to count them the hard way, by hand. It took him a few minutes to count them once, twice, three times, but at the end of the day, Tori won by one vote. He pondered this for a moment: he had been so obsessed with the thought of rigging the election in her favor to keep a close eye on her that he failed to realize that she could win the election on her own merit. It led him to wonder how many other times he had underestimated her.

                “Do I want to know what you’re doing in here?” Professor Potsdam appeared behind him. “I tried the door but it was strangely locked.”

                “I was just counting up the votes,” Grabiner said evenly. “Miss Cochran and Miss Brown are again the class president and treasurer, respectively.”

                “And I’ll assume that you haven’t tampered with these votes in any way to skew them in her favor?” Her voice was sickly sweet.

                He let out a deep breath, and for once when he spoke, his voice wasn’t full of his usual dry, contemptuous tone.  He sounded almost relieved. “Didn’t have to. Count them yourself.” And with that, he turned on his heel, unlocked the door and left to head back to his quarters.

                When he finally returned back to the gym for the freshman voting he was displeased to see that boy, Thomas Howell, getting a large amount of applause for his speech. He again assumed his post of watching the voting, and waited patiently for it to be over. Finally, when the last girl had placed her vote, he emptied out the boxes. He counted the ballots for class president first; he didn’t really care about who won that. But when he counted the ballots for the treasury position, he saw that Thomas won by a landslide. Mouth set in a firm line, he closed his eyes and concentrated.

                The little white slips of paper began to shake gently on the table in front of him as the black ink started to ooze, the letters slowly dripping into each other in a melted puddle until they were nothing more than a giant smudge. When they finally resettled into their respective letters, the check boxes were still in the same spot, but the names were switched. Thomas had…lost…by a landslide.

                With a smug smile playing on his lips, he left the ballots there for Potsdam to find. Whether his actions were right or wrong, it hardly mattered to him. He had a job to do. His role was to protect Ms. Brown, and that was what he intended to do. And he did not trust Thomas, not even a little. From the minute Thomas blew up the wall in the first exam to how much time he spent with Tori, Grabiner did not, could not, trust him, and he was not about to risk them spending even more time together on Saturday mornings. If she developed feelings for him and they kissed, the Manus would take her and he could lose all of his magic and memories. The situation was dangerous for them both, and he would do whatever was necessary to protect both her and himself. The alone time he would then have with her, he assured himself, was simply an unintended benefit, and nothing more.


	10. Chapter 10

                That Saturday morning, I woke with a start at exactly 4:45 AM. I shivered as I crept out of bed and put my warm fuzzy socks on underneath my robe. It was far too cold for October, although maybe I was just this cold because it was a while since I had woken up this early. I crept quietly down the corridor and went to fish out my keys, realizing immediately that I didn’t have them. Did I pick up my keys from Professor Grabiner yesterday? I hesitate for a moment. No, no I did not. Crap! I try the door, but of course it’s locked. Nervously, I began to pace outside the door. I could try to unlock it using magic, but would he know? Would he be mad?

                I slump back against the opposite wall. Great way to start off the year, with Grabby breathing down my neck about irresponsibility. Suddenly I hear footsteps approaching and turn to see him walking down the hall, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Forget something?” he asks, holding up the keyring in front of him.

                “I am so sorry,” I start, but he waves his hand dismissively as he unlocks the door.

                “The fault is mine, Ms. Brown,” he says. “I departed early for my quarters yesterday afternoon and forgot to make sure you had the keys.”

                “I-“ Is he really admitting fault? I blush and take the keys from him. “Thank you, sir, but really, I should have been more responsible and made sure I got them before you left.”

                He shifts. “Well, I trust I don’t need to remind you to do your duties.” He sets about to do something in a far corner while I get out the envelopes and start to put the five dollar allowance in each one. It feels strange to me, like I’m simply moving in response to muscle memory while my mind is somewhere far off. For some reason I turn around and realize that Grabiner is watching me. _Intently_.

                “Am I doing something wrong?” I ask immediately, looking at the envelopes. I was literally putting a five dollar bill in each envelope, how difficult could it be?

                “Are you feeling all right?” he asks after a moment. His voice is quiet, and comes out as no more than a whisper in the thick morning air.

                “Yeah, just tired.” I shrug and go back to sorting through the allowances. Over my shoulder, I am aware that he is still watching me. I put down the envelope I’m holding and turn to face him. “Is there something wrong, sir?”

                He hesitates, as if he’s not sure how to answer the question. “Do you like working as treasurer, Tori?”

                My forehead creases in confusion. “I…” I shrug. “I mean, getting up so early isn’t exactly what I would call _fun_ , but it’s not _bad_.”

                He doesn’t say anything as he turns around to go back to doing whatever it is that he’s doing, so I go back to my work. I place money in a few more envelopes but his odd behavior, combined with my suspicions from yesterday, push a question to my lips. “Sir, I did win this position fairly, right?”

                He raises his eyebrows at me. “Is there something you wish to confess?”

                “No,” I say immediately. “You were there. But I just, I thought I would lose, is all. A lot of people said they were voting for Jacob and I know Minnie wanted him to win.”

                “It was very close,” he says. “You won by a single vote.”

                My jaw drops in shock, but I can’t think of anything to say to that. I quickly finish the allowances and get up to sort the mail. It doesn’t take me a long time, and I’m soon ready to deliver it through the sophomore halls. “Good day, sir,” I say quickly, and I’m out the door before he can answer.

                Once the mail is all delivered, I slip back to my dorm. Ellen is already up, reading a book over a bowl of cereal. I give her a nod of acknowledgement and plop down on the bed, resting my forehead in my knees.

                “Hey,” Ellen says quietly, so as not to wake the sleeping Virginia. “You okay?”

                “Yeah,” I shrug.

                “Grabby give you a hard time?”

                “No.” I pull my knees away from my face. “No he was actually nice to me, I guess. It’s just something he said.”

                “What did he say?” Virginia yawns sleepily. “Yeah, you woke me up when you came in. Go figure. What did he say?”

                “I, okay,” I shrug. “He said that I only won by a single vote.”

                “A single vote?” Ellen repeats.

                Virginia grunts as she pushes herself up in bed. “So? A vote’s a vote. Doesn’t matter if you won by one vote or fifty votes or a thousand votes, you still won.”

                “Yeah, but you don’t know by _whose_ vote,” Ellen says. I tilt my head to the side, waiting for her to go on. “Well, why else would he tell you?”

                “I mean, he was acting weird around me, like…nice, I guess,” I stammer, trying to recall. “So I asked if I won it fairly since I thought Jacob was going to win it, and he told me that I won by a single vote.”

                Ellen puts her hand over her mouth as she stares at me. Both Virginia and I exchange unimpressed glances. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that one to us,” Virginia urges while I nod in agreement.

                “Don’t you get it?” Ellen asks. “What if he’s hinting that _he’s_ the final vote?”

                “What?” Virginia and I ask at the same time. She sounds a lot more excited than I am, though.

                “Well, he’s the supervisor for the treasurer and class president,” she says. “If there happened to be a tie, isn’t he the tie-breaker? He would cast the final vote to decide who won. Meaning you won by one vote.”

                “By _his_ vote?” I brush my hair out of my face. “No way.” For some reason, I just can’t believe it. He was acting nice to me today, but that was probably because he had a good night’s sleep or because it took too much effort to be so miserable this morning. “He wouldn’t vote for me.”

                “He would vote for you over Jacob,” Virginia countered, and I had to give her that.

                “I really don’t want to think about this,” I say in an attempt to change the subject. “How about we go to the mall today? The three of us?”

                “Well-“ Ellen hesitated.

                “Please?” I ask. “Help take my mind off of it?”

                “Come on,” Virginia said as she turned to Ellen. “You know I’m in.”

                Ellen sighs. “Well, I guess I don’t really have a choice then, do I?”

                “Nope,” Virginia replied happily as she rushed into the bathroom to get ready.

                A few hours later, we arrive at the mall; however, there is a bit of confusion as where to go next. “I want to go to the book store,” Ellen says.

                “Food court,” Virginia counters.

                “We could go to the magic store?” I offer as a compromise, but neither of them are receptive to the idea.

                “Hello ladies.” We spin around to see Donald and Thomas walking towards us. “What are you three doing here?”

                “And what are you two up to?” Virginia asks, placing her hands on her hips. “Come to buy some more water balloons? Cream pies? Rubber ducks?”

                “Just going to the arcade,” Thomas says, holding up his hands innocently.

                “Nothing like a friendly pinball tournament on a rainy Saturday afternoon,” Donald adds.

                “Oh, mind if I come with you?” I ask quickly. Virginia and Ellen both glance sideways at me, but I can’t help it. I don’t really want to go to the book store, and I don’t want to go to the food court. I do, however, want to go to the arcade, but I would have a hard time dragging Virginia or Ellen in there with me.

                “Of course,” Donald says. “Any other takers?”

                “Nah, I got stuff to do,” Virginia says.

                “Same,” Ellen echoes.

                “Well, then, we’ll, uh, see you later,” Donald says as they walk past. I shrug at my roommates in quick apology as we head off to the arcade.

                “So have you been playing pinball lately?” Donald asks me as we enter the arcade.

                “Nah, I haven’t been in the arcade much since Big Steve won me that cute stuffed rabbit from the claw machine.”

                “Wait, the one he carried around all year?” Donald asks.

                “Yeah, I sort of gave it to him after he told me that he was having dreams that Mr. Hoppity was calling to him,” I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. He’s probably better off with Big Steve anyway.”

                So they set about taking turns playing pinball from the machine while I played on the dance machine, working on my footwork. After a while, Donald either got bored or hungry and gave up to go to the food court. Thomas turned to me. “So do you want to play?”

                “Nah,” I shrugged. “Never been much for pinball.”

                Thomas pulled himself up onto the foosball table in the middle of the room and sat on it, dangling his legs off the edge. “Hey, how come we don’t hang out as much as we used to?”

                “Just busy, I guess,” I shrug. “Professor Grabiner didn’t want me tutoring you anymore either. Said I wasn’t smart enough, or something like that.”

                “He’s a jerk,” Thomas said irritably, and I turn away from the machine to look at him.

                “No, come on, he’s not that bad,” I shrug. “He can be nice when he wants to be.”

                Thomas looked around, as though someone might be listening. “Can I tell you a secret?”

                “Of course. I won’t tell.” I wait patiently for him to tell me what’s on his mind.

                “I think I was really elected as freshman treasurer and he rigged the vote somehow.” I try to disguise the look of shock that swept across my face, but he noticed it. “What is it?”

                “I don’t think that he would do something like that,” I say quickly, trying to push the conversation I had with my roommates this morning out of my mind. “I mean, he doesn’t _really_ care who gets elected, right?”

                “I’m not sure,” Thomas answers. “He’s always giving me a hard time on exams, even though other people I’ve talked to say that I’m going above and beyond what’s expected of us at this level. Plus Jason won’t let me study with him anymore either, something about Grabiner saying that it was ‘inappropriate’ since he was my real teacher or something.”

                “That stinks,” I shrug. “At least you only need to wait one more year until you get Jason as your teacher. Then you won’t have to worry about Grabby anymore.”

                “Have you been taking a lot of his classes?” Thomas asks.

                “Jason’s?” I ask. “Yeah, he’s, uh, pretty popular, but I tend to go often enough.”

                “You should go more and tell me what you learn.” Thomas smiles at me. “Jason would be cool with it. It’s a good way to practice some extra magic. And Grabby doesn’t have to know. It’s not his class, not his problem.”

                “I guess,” I shrug as I check my watch. “I mean, he seems to have a way of knowing everything, but it doesn’t matter. Jason _did_ encourage me to study with you, and he’s my teacher for that class now, so I guess it doesn’t really matter what Grabby says.”

                “Cool,” Thomas says, hopping off the table. “Time to get back now, huh?”

                “Yeah, the bus is coming soon, we should probably join the others,” I say as we get ready to leave the arcade. “By the way, I wouldn’t worry too much about missing out on the treasury position. Getting up at 5 AM really isn’t as much fun as it sounds.”

                He shrugs. “Yeah, well, if he did fix the polls, I can see why.”

                “Why?” I ask quickly, listening more intently than I should be.

                “To surround himself with pretty girls, of course.” He smiles up at me, but I just shake my head as we walk to join the others by the food court.

                “There you two are,” Virginia says as we approach. “I thought you two were going to miss the bus.”

                “Nah,” I shrug. “Just not looking forward to getting back to school so soon. I got too much studying to do.”

                “Red magic?” Thomas asks.

                “Yeah,” I say. “Honestly at first I thought that blue magic was my favorite, but I think I seriously underestimated red magic and the potential of what you can do with it.”

                “Now you’re joining my side,” Virginia says as she throws an arm around my neck and forcibly leads me into the bus. We sit together side by side in the back making small talk about going to the gym and sports club when she suddenly lowers her voice. “So is he your boyfriend now?”

                “What?” I ask. “Virginia, no.”

                “What?” She glances behind her, but Thomas is too busy wrapped up in his conversation with Donald to notice us. “I see the way he looks at you. And he’s kinda cute-“

                “-in a little brother way,” I say.

                “He’s not that young.”

                “Too young for me,” I respond.

                “Oh right?” Virginia rolls her eyes. “I forgot you prefer older guys. Like Jason.”

                “I haven’t even talked to him recently,” I say, but I feel heat rising to my cheeks.

                “Oh, uh-huh, sure,” Virginia teases. “If knowing the correct answer to _every_ question he asks isn’t flirting then I don’t know what is.”

                “Psh, I am not dating one of my teachers,” I say resolutely. “Although Tommy seems to think that Grabby-pants has a thing for rigging the elections to pick pretty girls.”

                Virginia looks me up and down out of the corner of her eye. “Well, there you go. Now you know why you were picked to be treasurer. Mystery solved. Case closed.”

                “I guess,” I say, rolling my eyes. I feel like there’s more to it than that, but I can’t exactly ask him. I doubt he would tell me anyway. Virginia sees the hesitant expression on my face and starts to sing.

                “Tori and Grabby sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-…ow,” Virginia teases until I smack her in the arm, a bit harder than I intended to. “Meanie. I was just teasing.”

                “Sorry,” I say quickly. “Would you forgive me if I gave you the rest of the chocolates I have hidden under my desk when we get back?”

                “So that’s where you’ve been hiding them.” She cracks a grin at me, and leans over the bus seat to thump Donald gently on the top of the head.

                As they argue, I sit back and look out the rainy bus window. It’s weird. For some reason, I just can’t stop _thinking_ about Professor Grabiner. He has shown that he can be nice, on occasion, and incredibly cruel on others…I just can’t decide which person he really is.


	11. Chapter 11

                I was wrong. I was so very, very wrong. I don’t know how I ever could have thought that Professor Grabiner was nice, or even remotely civil. I made the mistake of hanging out with Tommy on Monday and Tuesday night. At class on Wednesday, Grabby did nothing but taunt me the whole time, asking me questions that I could not possibly know the answer to and telling the other students that I was clearly not one to pay attention and encouraging them _not_ to be like me. I don’t even know how I managed to get through class. My hands were shaking so hard that even my notes started to become unintelligible. After class, there was nothing I wanted to do more than run and hide in the safety of my room, but I had to confront him about it, I didn’t have a choice.

                I wait until all of the other students are out of the room before I dare approaching him. “Sir, did I do something to offend you?” I try to keep my voice level, but I’m pretty sure he could sense how fearful I was.

                “Offend?” he asks, turning to face me. His eyes are shining with rage. “No, stupid girl, offend isn’t the right word.”

                “Then what did I do?” It bursts out of me like a little child about to cry. My breathing is labored with tears about to come, but I don’t cry, at least not yet.

                If he’s in any way affected by my outburst, he doesn’t show it. “I told you firmly that I did not want you tutoring the boy-“

                “I wasn’t tutoring him, we were just doing magic together-“ I start, but he is talking above me.

                “Be quiet! I think this stunt will cost you ten demerits, maybe you will listen and obey me next time,” he snaps.

                “Obey?” I echo. “You never gave me a direct command. You said you _didn’t want_ me to tutor him, and I’m not. Two friends hanging out practicing homework is _not_ tutoring.”

                “Do not argue semantics with me.” He glares at me, but I continue.

                “And _Jason_ said that he would like to see me practicing more with Tommy. You two are _both_ my teachers, aren’t I supposed to _obey_ you both?”

                His hands are shaking with rage as he holds them out to me, palms out. I put up a shield around myself as I feel myself being thrown backwards into the wall. He seems shocked, but I’m not exactly sure why. Is it because I defended myself? Is it because he used magic to attack a student? Could he get in trouble for this? The shield cushioned some of the blow, but it still hurt. “I-I-I’m sorry, sir,” I stammer. I feel my legs go weak and I clutch onto a nearby desk for support. “I-I won’t do magic with him anymore.”

                He is still fuming, but his voice is more stable when he speaks again. “Idiot girl, the only reason I am so hard on you is because your words have consequences. When you give your word to do as someone says, there can be serious repercussions if you break your… _promises_.”

                “But I didn’t promise you anything,” I manage. “You told me you didn’t want me tutoring him, but I never explicitly agreed to do anything. You never gave me a chance to talk.”  

                He hesitates, staring me down. I can feel my heart beating faster and faster in my chest that I can hear it in my eardrums. It feels like it’s ready to burst out of my chest, or maybe that’s because he is trying to pull it out of me by sheer force of will.

                “Be careful how you speak. You may make vows accidently, vows you don’t even remember making. You are still held to the consequences of those vows. I will see you tomorrow for your test,” he says at length, picking up his books and striding out of the room.

                I suck in a breath as soon as I hear the door close behind him and start to cry, raking big gulps of air into my chest. It’s an ugly sound, I hate it even as it hits my own ears, but I’m shaking and I’m upset and I don’t know how else to let it out. So I half-sit, hunched over the desk for support, trying to get my knees to stop shaking and to control the tremors in my hands. I want to teleport back to my room but I can’t really trust that I can teleport all of me in the state I’m in, so I wait until the corridor is empty before I venture outside.

                I make it back to my room without running into anyone I know and almost collapse as I’m inside the door. The only thing stopping me is the fact that both Ellen and Virginia are there. “Are you okay?” Ellen asks, jumping to her feet. It occurs to me that I don’t think either of them has heard me cry before.

                “I-I don’t know what I keep doing to make him hate me so much,” I sob. I pass between their hands and eventually make it to my pillow, which I ball up against my face to keep them from seeing me like this.

                “Donald was in here earlier, he said Grabby was really laying into you today,” Ellen said softly. “Did something happen?”

                “He-he-he-he he told me that he didn’t want me to tutor Thomas anymore with magic,” I say through sobs. “And I _didn’t_ okay, I _didn’t_ tutor him, we were just practicing and I-I-I guess Grabby found out about it somehow, and he-he-he got, um, really mad…”

                “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Virginia asks. I think back to when he raised his hands and how quickly I put up the shield. I’ve never been in serious combat before…what if I hadn’t put up the shield in time? What if I hadn’t put it up at all? What if he sent me flying back with enough force that I cracked the back of my head open against the back wall? What if he had _killed me_?

                This thought brings a new heavy wave of sobs and I let it all out into my pillow, not caring about how loud I am. I’m so wrapped up in my tears and the sobbing and the embarrassment and the _what if’s_ that I don’t even notice Virginia left the room. It wasn’t until I heard Potsdam’s, “Oh my” in the doorway with Virginia and Isobel behind her that I realize how bad this looks.

                “No, no, no, I-“ I start but I don’t even know what to say.

                “Come with me, dear,” Potsdam steps forward and stretches out her hand. I take it and she leads me past Isobel, who pats me on the shoulder comfortingly. It’s so embarrassing, and I keep my head parallel with the floor until I feel her put a hand on my arm and we’re both teleported into her office.

                “It’s okay, dear, it’s okay, why don’t you have a seat,” she gestures to the plush chairs in front of her desk and I do, pulling my knees up to my chest. I hide my face in the fabric of my robes, biting one of my knuckles on my left hand to keep myself from crying. “Poor dear, you’re shaking.”

                I can’t get control of myself. The embarrassment that even now the _Headmaster_ has to be involved is what makes it worse. He is going to get in trouble and I don’t even know what he’s going to do to me when he finds out-

                This brings on a new wave of sobs and she stares at me pitifully. That, also, isn’t helping. “Why don’t you try to take a few deep breaths, dear?” I try to breathe in, but it makes a gross croaking sound and I sniff and wipe my nose on my sleeve in disgust. Right now, I am a mess of snot and tears and my cheeks _hurt_ from all the crying and-

                Suddenly it’s easier to breathe and I feel my sinuses clearing up. I take one more perfunctory sniff before my eyes clear. “There,” she says. “Feel better?”

                I do, slightly. “Is my face still red? Is my nose still swollen?” I ask as light tears continue to flow.

                “It’s no bigger than his is, dear,” she says, and I let out a giggle that turns into a hiccup as I try to control my breathing. “That’s it, there there.”

                “Is that, green magic?” I ask to try to steer the conversation against the fact that I was now the embarrassment of the entire school.

                “Green and white,” she admits. “I wanted to know how you were feeling, dear.”

                “Awful,” I say.

                “Awful,” she confirms. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

                I look around suddenly, as if I’m afraid he has the room wired. “No, I’m fine, really. It was nothing. I…overreacted.”

                She sets her mouth into a firm smile and looks up at the ceiling as if to indicate that she doesn’t believe me.

                “He was being mean to me in class,” I explain. “I got, I got really upset and so I confronted him about it after class. And he, he-“ My voice trails off.

                “He what, dear?” she asks.

                I don’t know how to describe it. I honestly, truly don’t. “He just got mad at me.”

                “I can tell you’re not being fully honest with me,” she says after a moment. “Do you know how I know?”

                “Magic?” I ask meekly.

                “Your lip is quivering,” she says. “Every time you lie, your lip quivers a bit.”

                “Really?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. It’s such an odd piece of trivia I didn’t know about myself, I’m not sure if I believe it, or if it’s just something she’s telling me to get me to trust her.

                “Why don’t you start with why he was mad at you?” she asks.

                “Umm, Professor Coleman said he thought it would be good if me and one of my friends, umm, he’s a freshman, Thomas?, practiced red magic together, since I didn’t really learn a lot of it last year. And, umm, Professor Grabiner was really…against the idea.”

                “Hmm, do you know why?” She seems sympathetic, and that only makes it worse.

                “I don’t know!” My voice pours out with frustration, and I struggle to keep back another wave of tears. “I don’t know why he hates me so much but he _hates me so much_ and I don’t know why. One moment he’s being mean to me in class, and then he’s nice to me, and then he’s mean to me again, and-“ I sniff hard. “And some people told me that they think he rigged the election to make me win over Jacob because he likes to be around pretty girls.”

                Potsdam actually laughs at that, and yes it sounded entirely stupid, but it actually felt good to get it off my chest and hear someone else confirm how ridiculous it sounds. I smile a little bit, and she waits for me to go on.

                “He pushed me against the wall,” I say at length, but offer no more.

                “With his hands?” she asks. I can’t quite read her tone.

                “Um, no, with uh, magic,” I say. “As soon as his hands went up, I put up a shield between us to negate the force of impact. I didn’t know if he was going to really hurt me, but as soon as his hands went up, I went…shield.” I raise my arm to imitate a shield being raised defensively.

                “You’re a very smart girl,” she says. “Usually we don’t teach defensive magic until next year because there should never be a case in which you should need to use it, but I’m glad you had the foresight to protect yourself.”  

                There’s something odd in her tone. “Am I in trouble?”

                “Oh, no, no,” she says dismissively. “If anything, I’m glad that your first thought was _defensive_ magic, instead of _offensive_ magic, especially since you felt threatened. Now, dear, are you all right? Any scrapes or bruises?”

                “I hit my head a little,” I murmur, embarrassed. “But…but I’m okay, just…scared.”

                “Scared?” she asks. “Of him?”

                I look around before nodding my head slowly. “Please don’t, don’t tell him I told you this. I don’t want him getting in trouble.”

                “Well-“ she shifts in her seat. “He did use offensive magic on a student. That is grounds for disciplinary action.”

                “No, please, please don’t,” I beg. “You’ll only make it worse. I still have to see him on Saturday mornings, and for tests, and he’s the only one who teaches blue magic at this year level. He’ll know that I’m the one who told and I don’t know what he’ll do to me.”

                “He won’t do anything to harm you, I can assure you that,” she says. “And it sounds to me like you’re not getting a lot of learning done regardless.”

                “No, he’s, he’s, a good teacher,” I say, then add, “When he’s not being a bully.”

                She leans forward on her desk and clasps her hands together. “You’re an adult now, Tori, and I’m going to treat you like one. I’m going to give you two choices. First, and I want you to know this, you are a student here and you are under our protection. You should never have to feel like you are afraid of anyone here, especially a teacher. Do you understand that?” I nod my head slowly.

                “Secondly, although I doubt he would like me sharing this with you, Professor Grabiner is going through an extremely emotional _personal_ crisis at the moment. Whatever he was upset about probably had a lot more to do with him, and was a lot less about you.”

                “No,” I shake my head. “No, he thought that I had broken a vow I made him or something. He was trying to protect me in his own weird way, I guess. He was trying to protect me from having my magic and memories wiped. He wanted to scare me so I’m a lot more careful about what I say and do in the future…I think.”

                “You are a very mature girl, and I’m sure he is only hard on you because he sees the potential that you have, do you agree?” she asks. I nod my head stiffly. It seems weird to say, but I guess it is at least a little bit true. “Now, here’s my proposal. I can discipline him. We have our own disciplinary code for teachers. I cannot tell you what his punishment would be, but I can say that I doubt he will ever lay a finger on you again.”

                I bite my lip. Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good. Surely they wouldn’t go as far as to wipe his memories, would they? “Or, the second option is that we can leave this just between us. You will find, Tori, as you get older and meet more people, that there are mean-spirited people in the world. Some people who find enjoyment in the torture and suffering of others. I can tell you now that although Professor Grabiner has a _unique_ approach to education, that he is not one of those people. You will have to deal with bullies eventually, Tori, but it’s up to you to figure out how. Right now you are a student and you shouldn’t have to deal with bullying from a professor-“

                “Leave it just between us,” I say automatically, and I think I know what she’s trying to get at. “I know he’s really private. He doesn’t seem to get any mail. He doesn’t seem to have any friends or family and I…I feel bad for him.” I shake my head and smooth down my hair. “It doesn’t excuse what he did to me, but he didn’t really hurt me. He just scared me. And I think that’s what he was trying to do.”

                She smiles at me. “Do you think you can get back to your room okay?”  

                I nod quickly. “Yeah, although, I’m a little scared to go back. I mean, everyone was talking about how mean he was to me in class today and judging by how fast word spreads around here, they all probably think he tried to kill me, so hopefully they’ll be too shocked that I’m alive to ask me any questions.” I force a smile, which she returns.

                “That’s the spirit. Now, run along dear,” she says. I stand up quickly and leave her office.

                As I get down the steps, Thomas is waiting for me outside. I walk past him, hoping he’ll take a hint. “Tori, hey, wait up.”

                I take a quick detour onto the trails and slow down, waiting for him to catch up. “Hey, I heard about what happened. Are you okay?”

                “Yeah,” I wipe my nose with my sleeve again, hoping that I at least don’t look like I’ve been crying my eyes out for the past hour or so. “What are they saying happened?”

                “They’re saying he used binding magic to throw you across the room,” he says. “That he left you stuck to the ceiling and Professor Potsdam had to come get you down.”

                “Oh.” I try to force a laugh, but nothing comes out.

                “What happened?” Thomas asks. “Is it because of me? Because I talked to Jason, and he said-“

                “Look.” I stop suddenly and turn to face him. “You’re my friend, but I don’t need you to fight my battles. I appreciate you trying to help, but you weren’t a part of this. It was about a, a treasury issue. It had nothing to do with you.” I shift my gaze back to the trails and start walking again.

                He contemplates this and walks along quietly beside me for a while. “It seems like you can really use a friend right now.” He reaches for my hand and I let him take it. Today’s been such a weird day; I can’t really bring myself to argue. We walk hand in hand through the trails for a while, until we’re almost back at the dorms.

                “Hey.” He turns to face me and takes my other hand in his. “Look, things will get better. The Halloween dance is coming up. Go with me. Donald already asked Ellen, and I think Virginia has a date. I was thinking we could go together. It’ll be fun.” He smiles up at me and he looks so earnest and sweet and _uncomplicated_ that I just shrug.   

                “Sure,” I say. “Sorry I don’t seem more…enthusiastic.…”

                “Don’t even worry about it,” he says, booping me gently on the nose with the tip of his finger. “I’ll see you around, Tori.”

                I smile in spite of myself and wave as he walks away. I sigh and gather my robes around me as I head inside and prepare for the inquisition I’m about to endure.

\---

                “That’s the spirit. Now, run along dear,” Potsdam said. Tori stood up too quickly and grabbed the back of the chair for balance, hesitating a moment before heading out the door. Potsdam waited a moment before speaking.

“It seems once again you and Mrs. Grabiner are the talk of the school.”

                “Miss Brown,” Grabiner corrected her as he uncloaked himself.

                “Well, it seems that now _all_ of the students are afraid of you,” Potsdam replied coolly. “Did you get what you wanted?”

                “I reacted to the circumstances as I saw fit,” he said defensively. “She seemed to have learned her lesson.”

                “By scaring the poor girl half to death,” Potsdam exclaimed. “I know you’re upset, but you need to control yourself. Especially around her.”

                “I can discipline my students as I see fit,” he argued. “That is not your concern. Your concern is trying to figure out why her memory was shielded in the first place and how to get it back, but you seem to be doing a lousy job of that and sticking your nose into my business again as usual.”        

                The effect was immediate. Her face clouded over, and the ends of her hair began to spark. When she spoke, her voice was low. “I put up with your tone, Hieronymous, because I know your circumstances and I know what you’ve been through. But I will not tolerate you harming our students, especially that girl. You made a vow to protect her. If you harm a hair on her head, you won’t have to worry about answering to me. You won’t have to worry about answering to anyone. I won’t just erase your memory. Where shall I leave you? In the middle of the countryside in the rain? Under some decrepit little bridge in the city? What thoughts will I make you believe about yourself? I can shape you into whatever I want you to be, and you won’t even remember if that’s who you are. But I’ll leave you with that one nagging little doubt in your head, if all of this is real, and it will eat you from the inside out. Do I make myself clear?”

                As scary as Professor Grabiner seemed to the students, it was nothing compared to how scary Professor Potsdam could be when she really wanted to be. He nodded quickly, casting his eyes down. “I-I apologize. I, I didn’t mean-“

                “Stop talking,” she snapped. “I’m not going to punish you for this. I can smell the stink of regret on you from a mile away. I feel your guilt and your regret and your pain and your rage. I know this isn’t easy for you, but this is _not_ her fault.”

                “I-“

                “It’s your fault,” she said seriously. “You were messing around with that Manus in a room where you _knew_ students had easy access. It could have been Tori, it could have been Minnie, it could have been some freshman boy for all you know. Maybe someone is using her to attack you, but either way, you are the one who put her in this position. And I know you have doubts, as to whether or not this is your fault and you should know that yes, it is. Unequivocally, yes. She is a student under our protection and you compromised that.”

                “I understand,” he said solemnly, looking away from her. The sparks had died down but there was still a dark aura that surrounded her. “It is my fault she is in this position. I will do everything in my power to protect her until January.”                

                Professor Potsdam glowered at him again. “For all your books and knowledge you have no common sense,” she snapped. “For the severance, there must be two competent parties. She doesn’t remember the marriage taking place; therefore, she can’t consent to end it. Until she remembers, you are bound to her, and you are both bound to your oaths.”

                Anger rose up in him. At Tori, at Potsdam, at himself, at everyone. But he kept in check. Potsdam was in a dangerous mood right now, and he had to get out now if he valued his life. “As you said, this is my fault and I will do everything in my power to protect her.”

                “Let’s see you do a better job of it this time,” Potsdam warned. “You are dismissed.”


	12. Chapter 12

                I duck out of the way as something slashes at me from the left, but I can’t _think_. I didn’t get any sleep last night and I’m not sure how to make it out of this twisted labyrinth when everything keeps moving. It’s dark, I can hear things growling and moving outside my field of vision, and I have almost stumbled into the same abyss at least three times now. I rearranged the stones to walk across them before, but now I lost sight of them. _Was I on the other side? Am I going in a circle?_

I kneel down on the cold dungeon door and feel the edge of the abyss with my hands, but there are no rocks here now. Nothing I can use to get me safely across. Out in the distance, I can see a monster coming at me, its claws glinting in the darkness. Somehow the corridor to my left has vanished and it’s just the abyss behind me, and the monster coming at me in front of me. I cast True Sight at it, but it really is a monster, not an illusion. I already wasted most of my magic uselessly transfiguring the rocks to make a makeshift bridge to take me across and I don’t have enough magic left to teleport me or it to another part of the dungeon. I don’t even think I have enough magic to make a shield. I sit in the dirt and close my eyes, holding my arms in front of my face in a defensive position, hoping it won’t notice me, hoping that if I don’t make any noise, it will go back the way it came.

                I can feel tears start to sting in my eyes and I realize that I’m trembling. I’ve always aced any tests that they’ve put before me but I just can’t figure out what to do here. I dig myself into the dirt and make myself as small as possible, hoping it won’t notice me, hoping it won’t notice me, hoping it won’t-

                I am hit by something long and blunt, and a sharp pain goes through me as I roll backwards from the force of impact. I reach out with one hand for the ledge, but it’s not enough to hold my weight and I slip backwards into unrelenting darkness. I close my eyes and cry out. Before I hit the bottom, I look up into the face of…

                … _Professor Grabiner?_

                I immediately scoot back on instinct and hit the back of my head against a table. _Oww._ He sighs, and I can feel my lip trembling. _No no no. Not like this_. Just yesterday, Professor Grabiner had made me look like a fool in front of the entire class and then berated me for it afterwards. I was hysterical and my roommates went as far as to get Potsdam involved, but I told her that I could handle this by myself. Now I’m cowering in front of him like a child, my eyes brimming with tears. Way to show him that I’m a mature, capable adult.

                “Here, here.” He holds his hand out to help me up and I don’t know why I take it. I brush my hair out of my face and sniff, trying to hold myself together. I refuse to look at him. To his credit, he waits patiently for me to recover myself.

                “So what?” I snap at him. “Do I lose another ten demerits today? _Sir_?”

                He sighs and gathers himself. “Miss Brown, I must apologize for my behavior yesterday. I was simply trying to reinforce a point, one that I think you now understand. You are a student of this institution and I had no right to treat you the way that I did. My actions were completely inappropriate and I apologize.” He hesitates. “And I must award you back the ten merits I took from you yesterday.”

                “I don’t care.” I sit down in a chair and shake my head. My side is throbbing and I pull the edge of my shirt up to see a large purple bruise where I had been hit just below my ribcage. He reaches out to me, but I jerk my shirt down over the welt. “I’m fine.”

                “You’re not _fine_ ,” he says, just as irritably. I sigh and lift my shirt up a little bit, wincing as he lays his hand flat over the bruise. I’m expecting a jolt from a cold, clammy hand, but it doesn’t come. His hands are surprisingly warm and I try not to notice it, turning my head away from him as he heals me.

                “I’m not going to say thank you.” I sulk bitterly as he steps away.

                “Considering my manners yesterday, I’ll forgive yours today.” He smirks at me. _Smirks_. Like this is some kind of joke?

                “I failed the test,” I say. “So what happens next? Take the ten merits back and send me on my way?”

                “I will let you keep your merits, but unfortunately you will have to attend detention with me on Friday night,” he says.

                “Friday night?” I blink at him. “No, no, no, that’s the night of the Halloween dance.” He shrugs like it doesn’t matter and turns his back on me. “No!” I yell at him again. “No, I’m not going to detention on Friday night, not when this is your fault.”

                He turns back to face me, his jaw set, but I’m too angry to care. “My fault?”

                “After what you put me through yesterday, I couldn’t study, I didn’t even sleep last night,” I yell at him. “All night people were knocking on the door asking me what you’d done to me. I would have passed this test on any other day but today.”

                “You could have elected to take the test another day,” he says simply, although there is a hint of anger in his voice. “But you chose to take the test today. And you failed. There will be no repercussions, no demerits, except that you must spend your Friday night in detention.”

                I grit my teeth in frustration and clench my fists. He looks alarmed and on edge, as if he’s not sure if _I’m_ going to attack _him_ this time. “Why do you _hate me so much_?” I demand. “What did I ever do to you? I don’t remember ever really even _talking_ to you last spring, and then I don’t see you over the summer and immediately you want to give me detention the minute you see me. Just like last year, when you gave me ten demerits when I bumped into you _as a freshman_. I wasn’t even on this campus ten minutes and you were already punishing me for a silly mistake. And then when you found that stupid love letter on your desk, you didn’t even give me a chance to _explain,_ you just embarrassed me in front of the _whole class_ and then kicked me out. And that’s just two things in the first _week_ , I’m pretty sure there’s more I’ve blocked out because you are a mean, spiteful person.”

                I suddenly don’t know what I’m saying or where this is really coming from, but it all comes pouring out anyway. “You know, I’ve always felt sorry for you. You have no friends and no family and I always thought it was because you pushed people away for some deep personal reason but now I see it’s because you’re a jerk. You don’t push people away; they push _you_ away because they don’t need your negativity in their life. The _only_ person who I’ve ever even seen _talk_ to you is Professor Potsdam and that’s because she is so positive she likes _everybody,_ but she is the only person who could probably ever stand to be around a Grinch like you. So go on, keep ruining everyone’s day. Keep making everybody as miserable as you are. Look at me. You’ve succeeded. I. Am. Miserable. And it’s all your _fault_.” I snarl at him, but he doesn’t even flinch. The expression on his face hasn’t changed. It’s like he’s a robot. Maybe he is a robot. That, or just completely dead inside.

                “Oh.” I start to walk away, then spin around to face him. “And I don’t know why you hate Thomas. Maybe he bumped into you out in the quad on his first day too. I don’t know, but you don’t seem to like me spending time with him. I don’t know how you found out he’s taking- _was_ taking me to the dance Friday night, but I assume that’s the reason why you want me to spend it with a miserable old goat like you instead of at the dance having fun with my _friends_ instead of having a normal Saturday detention.”

                He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move. His expression doesn’t change. I wonder idly if this is a learned behavior, but I am quickly running out of steam. “I guess I’ll see you Friday night,” I snap at him. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything. “And-“ I hesitate, then decide to just go for it. “- _fuck_ you. Sir.” I fake curtsy at him before I push past him and open the door to leave the classroom.

                The door is only halfway open when it hits someone and I realize that there is a crowd of students outside, some waiting for the exam, some attracted by the noise. _Oh no._ I let my face drop and quickly stride past them as fast as I can, my hands clenched into fists swinging at my sides as I walk.

                I don’t know where to walk to. I don’t know where to go. Suddenly I feel like I’m a convict on the run. Am I going to get in trouble for that? I did technically yell at and curse out a professor. I can’t remember if that’s a punishable rule or not. What will they do? Will they wipe my memories and force me to go home to my parents? My palms start to sweat. I walk into a shade of trees safely hidden by the quad and brush my hair out of my face. “Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.” I start to chant softly to myself. My eyes are brimming with tears again and I can feel my hands shaking. What had come _over_ me? Was I hexed? Cursed? Did I really mean everything that I had just said?

                “Tori?” I hear a familiar voice approaching me, but I just turn away and continue walking in circles.

                “I have to go back,” I say to no one in particular. “I have to go back and-and-and apologize. I- holy shit I cursed out a teacher.”

                “And it was amazing.” Thomas steps into my field of sight and takes my shaking hands in his, pulling me down to sit with him on the grass. “He’s a jerk. I heard what you said. Every word of it was true.”

                “Every word?” I repeat blankly. “You heard all that?”

                “Well,” he hesitated. “It was between classes. There was a fair amount of people in the halls…”

                “Oh no.” I let go of his hands and bury my face in my knees. “I’m going to get expelled.”

                “Psh, for that?” he asks. “No, not expelled. Someone might give you a medal, maybe. I heard he was acting like more of a jerk than he was last year. He had it coming to him.”

                “I need to apologize,” I say quickly. “I just…I was really looking forward to the dance Friday night, and then when he said I had detention, I just…snapped.”

                “Wait, what?” Thomas asks.

                “The dance,” I repeat. “He’s giving me detention Friday night so I can’t go to the dance. That’s why I got so mad.”

                A flash of anger crosses Thomas’s face. “That’s not fair. It’s not right that he gives you special detention to miss the dance instead of normal Saturday detention.”

                “That’s what I said,” I snort. “It’s not fair, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

                “There is something.” He turns to me sharply. “Grabiner hates me but a few of the professors have taken a liking to me. And they hate him. They _really_ hate him. If you want I can try to take care of him for you.”

                “Take care of him?” I ask slowly. “What do you mean by that?”

                Thomas laughs and the dark look that crossed his face before is gone. “It’s nothing; I just meant maybe I can talk to the other teachers about trying to get you out of detention Friday night. I just wanted to sound dramatic and protective. I know he almost hurt you yesterday and I don’t want him hurting you on Friday.”

                “Thanks, but he’s not going to hurt me,” I say. “Potsdam wouldn’t let that happen.”

                “Anyway,” Thomas takes one of his hands in mine. “If you need anything, anything at all, I’m here for you. Okay?”

                “Thanks.” I force a smile in his direction. It’s the most I can manage for now. I need to save up all the energy I can for the second inquisition that I’m going to face when I return to the dorms – although this time, this one really is my fault.

\---

                They were smiling. Laughing. Giggling. Oohing. A bunch of obnoxious, childish faces gawking up at him. They had heard her. The whole school had heard her. Without waiting to finish the exams, he teleported out of the room and into the hallway outside his bedroom. He entered quickly and slammed the door shut behind him with deliberate force.

                He was mad. Angry. Furious. The levels of anger increased with each passing second. Her words scratched at him like knives. She thought she was cursing out a bitter teacher. She had no idea that she was really cursing out her husband. He slumped down into his desk chair and closed his eyes. He remembered when she had stood in this very room during the May Day ball, when he had kissed her for the first time, when she said that she liked spending time with him. When she talked about how she was able to overlook all of his negative qualities in favor of the positive ones he rarely let show.

                Did she really mean that then? Or did she really mean what she said now? He thought about what Tori had said today. He thought about what Potsdam said yesterday. That this was all his fault. That his stupidity had put an innocent student at risk. This wasn’t the first time his stupidity had cost someone their life. It’s exactly how Violet died so many years ago. Because he was stupid. Because he didn’t want to ask for anyone’s help, because he thought he knew better. Potsdam knew better. Potsdam knew him for the selfish coward he really was. His walls could keep everyone else out, except for her. And Tori.

                He thought about how he had been treating her this year. Was it really much worse than how he had treated her last year? He hadn’t even remembered that he has assigned her ten demerits on her first day, or how that must have seemed to her, a young, impressionable girl off at school by herself for the first time. He regretted it, just as he regretted every time he had ever been cruel to her. And there were many times, times that she couldn’t even remember. Maybe she was right. Maybe at first the walls had gone up to protect himself from ever letting anyone in so nothing would hurt as bad as Violet’s death had, but had it made him cruel as a result? He knew that he made some students cry, especially the freshman, but he always assumed it was to make them stronger, to scare them into remembering things they should never forget so they never got hurt. But, then again, he had never seen anyone cry like Tori had cried yesterday, and the feeling he got in his stomach realizing he was the one that made her that upset felt like swallowing asphalt.

                There was a knock on the door and for a split second he almost hoped it was Tori before he pushed that thought away. She hated him now, absolutely hated him. Whatever she had felt for him that summer was clearly a passing thing, and it was gone now, completely extinguished. He had to admit, he had been growing fond of her, but he didn’t love her, and as soon as she recovered her memories they could proceed with the severance and erase the whole thing from her mind. He could only imagine her disgust at finding out that she was actually married to someone she loathed and despised so much.

                The knock came again, then, “Hieronymous, open this door before I blast it down. I don’t care what protections you have on it, you know I will.”

                He sighed and flicked his wrist, allowing the door to swing open. Potsdam entered and closed the door behind her quickly. She had only been in his room a handful of times, but it always looked the same. No photographs, no decorations, just basic furniture. And books. Lots of books.

                “I’d ask how you were feeling, but-“ She deliberately made the sign to show that she was using an empathy spell, and he made no motion to stop her. “-it’s as I expected.”

                She had never seen him like this before, well, not since Violet. He was completely despondent, numb. It wasn’t the embarrassment of being overheard by the entire school, it wasn’t the rejection and harsh telling-off he received from his wife; it was the fact that he was forced to consider that she may have been right. For the first time he was considering, that just maybe, this sheltered, angry existence of his was only a protective cover to hide the sorrow and loneliness he really felt. And he had no one to blame for that but himself.

And somewhere, buried beneath the new stuff, was a flicker of disappointment. He was right, he didn’t love Tori. It hadn’t gotten that far yet, there hadn’t been enough time, but he had been growing fond of her. He was growing attached to her, opening up to her, and then she was snatched away from him. At the core of what made Professor Hieronymous Grabiner who he was was a constant nagging fear not to let anyone close so he would never have to feel that loss ever again.

                Professor Potsdam knew all of this, felt all this, and it was her pity for him that allowed him to carry on, pretty much unchecked, all of these years, skipping social events, ignoring birthdays and holidays, being rude and discourteous to anyone who crossed his path. She had hoped that Tori might have been able to change that. She was a strong girl, exceptionally bright, a bit mature for her age and had a nagging, stubborn sense of loyalty. It was that last quality that compelled her to encourage Tori to make their arrangement permanent. Hieronymous had been determined from the day of the wedding not to “ruin one more day of that girl’s life than he had to,” but she had hoped that it would have only been a matter of time until he realized that he could have a deep connection with another human being without being a detriment to them. Now, with Tori’s happy memories of him gone, it seemed as if that chance was slipping.

                “Take tomorrow off,” Potsdam said quietly as she headed for the door. She shut it behind her with a faint click, leaving him locked alone with his thoughts.


	13. Chapter 13

                I don’t even know why I decide to go to Grabiner’s class the next day after the way that I had yelled at him. I hadn’t quite decided if I was going to apologize after class, or if I was simply going to show him that I would not allow myself to be pushed around. I was half afraid that maybe he would kick me out of class, but I would have to take that on chance.

                But as I arrived at the classroom that day, a tad later than everybody else, there was a note on the board that said, “Free Period.” I stopped and frowned at it. He wasn’t here? My first thought was that he was too embarrassed to show up to class after a student yelled at him, but surely other students must have gone off on him before, right? And he wouldn’t cancel class just because of that, would he?

                As I leave the classroom, I’m suddenly aware that all eyes are on me. The volume in the hallway seems to drop as I’m flooded by whispers.

                _“Look, there she is.”_

_“Did you hear what she said yesterday?”_

_“I heard she yelled at him because he refused to go to the dance with her.”_

_“I heard she rejected him. She’s the treasurer, right? They do spend a lot of alone time together.”_

_“He’s probably too embarrassed to show up now. No more Grabby.”_

_“I heard he ran out of the room crying.”_

_“He’s probably still locked away in his room, crying like a baby.”_

_“Maybe he couldn’t take someone telling him the truth to his face.”_

_“Maybe he really is depressed.”_

_“Maybe he killed himself.”_

The last voice made me freeze in my tracks as icy fingers race up and down my spine. I whirl around but the hallway is quiet now, filled with people who refuse to look at me or meet my eyes. The last words I hear still linger in the air: _Maybe he killed himself._

                 I shake my head and pick up the pace, racing towards my dorm room, walking as fast as I can. As I walk, people brush by me asking me questions. “So is Grabby gone for good? What did you _do_ to him?”

                I don’t cry, but I just rake in a lungful of air and walk faster, walk as fast as I can without breaking into a run before I burst into my dorm room and shut the door behind me. The room is empty. Ellen and Virginia are probably in class with Jason for at least a few hours yet. My heart racing, I pull my pillow to my chest. _Maybe he killed himself._

                No, he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Just because I had said some mean things to him, doesn’t mean that he would go ahead and end his life, right? But there was something nagging at me, something besides the guilt. I didn’t know him, not really. What if he had friends, and a family, and he just didn’t show that side of him to his students? That made sense, right? Potsdam said he was going through something personal right now; what if someone he really cared about was really sick or something? Sure, Virginia had said that he didn’t have any friends or family, but she didn’t really know him either. She was just repeating the same rumors that she had heard from her brothers or other magical friends. But how well did they really know him either?

                “Oh shit,” I whisper to myself. As selfish as it sounds, I don’t know how I would be able to handle myself if he had… _done something_ …because of what I said to him. I lay on my back for what seems like hours, tracing patterns into the ceiling, the same two phrases repeating themselves over and over in my head. _What if he has done something? What if it’s all my fault?_

                Virginia and Ellen come back to the room after a while, but they seem hesitant upon seeing me. “Are you okay?”

                “Someone said he killed himself because of what I said to him.” I felt guilty yesterday after what I had said, but I don’t know how I’ll manage the guilt if he really-

                “Oh come on,” Virginia’s extremely dismissive tone shakes me from my stupor. “You _really_ think Grabiner is going to off himself because you called him a jerk and cursed him out?”

                “He wasn’t at class today,” I say defensively.

                “There could have been other reasons,” Ellen added. “Maybe he was just waiting for this whole thing to blow over. The dance _is_ coming up. That’ll be all anyone’s talking about soon, and what happened between the two of you will be old news.”

                “She has a point,” Virginia says. “You could always ask Professor Potsdam if you’re really worried about him. She’d know.”

                I shrug half-heartedly. “I mean, I want to apologize to him, but I don’t know if he’s quite ready to see me yet.”

                “Another good reason why he may not have been to class today,” Ellen adds.

                “So, what am I supposed to do?” I ask miserably. “Just sit here feeling guilty until detention tomorrow night?”

                “Hey, I don’t think you should feel _guilty_ ,” Virginia says. “I mean, he was a serious jerk to you. He attacked you in a classroom. He’s been coming down super hard on you lately; it was only a matter of time until you snapped. Nobody blames you.”

                “But I was _too mean_ ,” I continue. “Heck, I cursed at him. I told him he had no friends because no one wants to be around him because he’s too mean to everyone.”

                “Ouch,” Ellen grimaces.

                “But that’s the truth, isn’t it?” Virginia asks. “Look, I already explained how everyone in the magical community knows each other, right? There are things that you’re just _expected_ to do. He’s supposed to attend festivals and celebrations but he _won’t_. He’s not there for the Thanksgiving blessing, or the New Year’s festival in February, or even the pancake supper.”

                “The pancake supper?” I ask. There’s a curious blank spot in my memory. “I don’t remember that. Did I go to that?”

                “I think you were sick,” Virginia says dismissively. “Anyway, the point is that you weren’t wrong. A lot of people think it’s improper that he won’t attend. Potsdam has been defending him for as long as I can remember, but there are a lot of people who don’t like him. He doesn’t want to be around people socially and when he’s forced to interact with them, he’s rude to them. It’s his own fault he’s got no friends.”

                “Yeah, but-” I stammer. It’s weird to be defending someone I absolutely hated yesterday. “I mean, what if he’s got some reason for that? What if something happened to him that is so, so terrible and that’s why Potsdam has been-?”

                Virginia grins at me. “You are thinking too much into this. So what if he does?”

                “It’s not your business,” Ellen agrees quietly.

                “And not your concern,” Virginia shrugs. “Who cares why he’s a miserable old grump? He just _is_ , and your little speech yesterday isn’t going to change that.”

                “I just-“ I start, but Virginia cuts me off.

                “Hey, I’m saying this for your own good. He’s an adult, Tori, okay? Who cares why he is the way he is? He’s an adult. He makes his own decisions. If he wants to stop being mean to everyone around him, that’s his choice, but I don’t want you to suddenly start going out of your way to try being super friendly with him because you think you can ‘save him from himself’ or whatever because you feel guilty. He was an ass to you yesterday, and he’s going to be an ass to you tomorrow.”

                I shrug half-heartedly. “Maybe you’re right.”

                “No, I am right,” Virginia continues. “And if you try to pry into his personal life, he’s only going to come down harder on you than he has before. Just stay away from him as much as you can and don’t talk to him, then next year you don’t have to run for treasurer again and you don’t have to see him at all.”

                I want to argue, but stop myself. She’s only a few months older than I am, but she probably has some wisdom about this. William is smart: he’s probably told her lots of things that we don’t know, especially about the teachers, and she grew up in the magical world. She has experience with this stuff. And I don’t. I should listen to her.

                “When did you get so old and wise?” I tease to release the tension between us.

                Too bad I’m not going to.


	14. Chapter 14

                Thomas stops by my room before the Halloween dance to see if I’ll skip out on detention with Grabby, but I tell him that it’s a lost cause and to have fun at the dance. The truth is I do want to go to detention now, at least partially. I want to apologize to Professor Grabiner, and I want to see if maybe I can figure out why he’s so mean to everyone. I am slightly daunted by Virginia’s warning that he’ll come down harder on me than ever, but for some strange reason, I don’t think he will. I like to think of it as bravery, but deep down I think Virginia and even Grabiner himself would agree that it’s stupidity. I’m just a student. He’s not going to tell me anything…but at the very least, he probably won’t kill me.

                I go into the detention room earlier than usual and sit down at one of the desks in the front, folding my hands in front of me and staring straight ahead. I am ready for this. I _am_ ready for this. I am- I notice that my knees are shaking and I’m glad I’m sitting and it’s less obvious underneath the desk because I’m so not ready for this, as much as I would like to be.  I remember the flash of anger on his face and the rage in his eyes when he attacked me in the classroom. I remember how zoned out he looked when I was yelling at him. Maybe he really _is_ just a robot. Maybe he is going to kill me. _Holy shit he is a murder robot that is going to kill me_.

                Suddenly he walks into the classroom, and he looks almost confused to see me. “What are you doing here?”

                It’s like all the air has been let out of a balloon. I feel confused and off-balance. I quickly decide that this must be a test, and so I maintain my composure. I stare straight ahead, without meeting his eyes and simply say, “Tori Brown, reporting for detention, sir.”

                He sighs like he doesn’t have the patience for me right now, and walks around the room. I keep my chin locked straight ahead, trying to keep my vision focused dead-center so I’m not even tempted to see him out of the corner of my eye. If I can pretend that I’m not intimidated by him right now, maybe I won’t be.

                “You can go,” he says at length, and I blink twice. _Go?_ “To the dance,” he adds, as if he understands my confusion. “Go on, go. You’re released early.”

                For some reason, this makes me mad. Does he expect me to say thank you? Is this a game? I yell at him for being cruel so he does something nice for me? I somehow expect this is a test, that I’ll leave the room only to end up in another room like this one until I go crazy trying to get out, but I don’t think so. He sounds tired. _But at least he’s not dead._

                “No thank you, sir,” I say calmly, keeping my eyes locked dead center. I press my fingernails into the palms of my hands to hold my nerve.

                “No-?” Out of my peripheral, I can see him turn around to stare at me. He might be gaping, I’m not sure.

                “I was strictly out of line when I yelled at you, sir,” I say, although it comes off a bit robotically. “I cursed at you and in turn I broke Iris Academy’s policy to respect the professors of the institution. As you are a professor of this institution, I broke the rules and thus must serve detention as my punishment for breaking them.”

                “Punishment is only effective when it compels one to feel remorse for what they have done,” he says coolly, and I suddenly feel my resolve slip as I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.

                “I, uh, I am…sorry, that I yelled at you, and said that stuff,” I murmur, twisting my hands in my lap. “I am… _sorry._ ” I look back up at him nervously but I can’t quite read his expression.

                “Duly noted,” he replies as he turns his back on me.

                “No, I am sorry,” I exclaim. He doesn’t turn around. So much for my composure and talking this out like adults. “I didn’t mean to say that stuff to you. I was mad, and I was upset and I had no right to talk to you like that. I cursed at you and I was cruel _to you_ and I, it wasn’t my place to say _anything_. I know nothing about you and I said all that stuff anyway and then you weren’t at class and people, people were saying that you got so upset with what I said that you _killed yourself_ and I couldn’t…I couldn’t live with myself if you had, had _done something_ because of what I said to you. I mean…I didn’t think you _would_ but I still was upset that I made you….upset.”

                He chuckles to himself at my outburst. “Silly girl. You think I am so swayed by your opinion?”

                I think about it for a moment. Doesn’t he care? Hadn’t he said that once, that he cares about what I thought of him? I can’t remember where or…the context, but didn’t he…? “Yesssss?” I say slowly, cocking my head to the side, still trying to remember. Was it when I was a treasurer last spring? I can’t…remember…

                “Tori.” He says firmly, and I snap back to attention, shaking my head.

                “Um, no,” I say quickly. “No, you don’t care what I think.”

                He sighs and sits down across from me, although I don’t meet his eyes. “That is not…entirely true,” he says, and I make a small noise in the back of my throat in response, trying to understand what he’s saying. He sighs, and then shifts topics. “Do you understand why I yell at students? Why I’m so cruel to them, as you said?”

                “To protect us, right?” I ask. “Because magic is very dangerous and we’re young and inexperienced and we don’t know the magical laws like making promises and oaths, and even when we’re doing magic, people can get hurt…” He’s watching me carefully now. “And someone can get hurt. Did get hurt? And…I’m sorry, sir, haven’t we had this conversation…before?” I want to say more but there’s this strange _itching_ in the back of my head that I can’t explain. It’s like I can see an image on an old television set that hasn’t been adjusted properly and the colors are all out of balance, but I can see it, there’s _something_ there even though I’m not sure I can make out _what_ and I hear someone talking and I think it’s a man’s voice but it’s all garbled and I think I can feel tugging on my sleeve but I want to _see_ it, I want to see what’s there, there’s something _there_ , there’s a _feeling_ , I just want to see, I need to see, I want to-

                “OWW!” I cry out in pain and I look up to see Professor Grabiner standing above me, breathing heavily. “What the hell did you just do to me?”

                He hesitates for a moment while I pull my robes around me. “Are you all right?”

                “No,” I reply on instinct. I blink and look around me, but there’s no one else in the room. “What was that?”

                “What was what?” he asks.

                I glare at him. “What just happened? With the-the lights, and the colors. There was something there.”

                “What was there?” He’s watching me carefully and I run both hands through my hair, trying to piece it together.

                “I don’t know, there were voices,” I say, thinking back. “A man’s voice. But I couldn’t see it, or hear it, I guess. I mean, I heard talking but it was like there was this really loud static in the background and I couldn’t hear what he was saying and I just – what happened to me?”

                He is quiet for a few moments. “A spirit attacked you,” he says at last.

                I pause for a second. “A spirit attacked me?” I repeat dubiously.

                “It is All Hallows' Eve,” he explains, although he doesn’t look as sure of himself as he usually does. “Malicious spirits can sometimes try to work themselves into a human host.”

                “You mean like, possession?” I ask. He nods. “Wait, so all that-“ I point at my head. “-noise and stuff was just...”

                “What?” he asks, but I already feel it slipping away. Maybe it was just a ghost trying to pass through me. I don’t know. The pain isn’t there anymore and I don’t feel anything else. There’s no one in the room except for me and Professor Grabiner who looks extremely concerned.

                “Anyway,” I say quickly. “What were we, uh, talking about?”

                “Your punishment,” he says and narrows his eyes. I sigh inwardly. “But seeing how you were just attacked, I think it’s fair to say that you’ve suffered enough for one night.”

                “Um, thank you sir,” I say quickly. “And thank you, for uh, saving my life, I guess.”

                “As your professor, that is my obligation,” he says simply.

                “Um, so are we…cool now?” I ask.

                “Cool now?” he echoes, raising his eyebrows.

                “Well, we have to work together as treasurer,” I say. “And I need to see you for class, so I want us to be able to work together. Maybe we can be…friends?”

                He sighs. “You are a student. I am your professor. We will not have any sort of friendship or otherwise aside from the professional working relationship-“

                “Yeah, yeah, I figured, you don’t have ‘friends,’” I say casually. “Am I good to go now?”

                He pauses for a moment. “Have a good night, Ms. Brown.”

                “Thanks,” I say, and start to get up. For some reason, my knees aren’t working right and he catches my hand to help steady me. “Umm, sorry about that.”

                “Are you all right?” he asks.

                “Yeah,” I shrug. “Must be some, uh, leftover mojo from that spirit thing or whatever.”

                He nods, but looks less sure. That’s what I realize that my hand is still in his, the warmth of his skin flush against my own. A spark of adrenaline shoots through me and all of a sudden I feel dizzy with excitement, I feel-

                I jerk my hand out of his grip so violently that I slam it against the side of the desk with a resounding thunk. “Are you all right?” he asks, but I can barely hear him over the pulsing that is spreading through my wrist like wildfire.

                “Fine,” I say quickly, taking a step away from him. My face is flushed and burning from embarrassment. “I, um, will see you in class, s-sir,” I stammer as I make my way out of the room. “Good day-night-bye…sir.” With that I scurry down the hall as fast as my legs will carry me. When I am safely out of view, I curse at myself and then heal my hand. I stretch out my fingers, but there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage done. “I’m such an _idiot_ ,” I curse under my breath.

                I take the advantage of being alone in the corridor to slump down on the floor, holding my hand out in front of me, rubbing my fingers together where I had touched him. I had gotten a quick flash again, not as long or as steady as the one I had in the room, no lights or sounds, but the feeling associated with it was stronger this time. It felt like nervous apprehension, giddy excitement, and I didn’t understand any of it. It was just a hand, a human hand, why should it have any effect on me? Because it was _his_ hand? What did that mean?

                It means things that I don’t want to think about right now, and so I quickly get to my feet and make my way back to the dorm, where Ellen, Donald and Virginia are just coming in. “Have you seriously been with Grabby all this time?”

                “All this time?” I ask. It felt like I was there for no more than twenty minutes. “Wait, is the dance over?”

                “Yeah, we were one of the last ones to leave,” Donald says, then catches the look on my face in the dim light. “What did he _do_ to you?”

                “I-“ I hesitate. I want to tell them that I was apparently almost possessed by a spirit, but for some reason, I don’t. I feel like Virginia would know more information about this, but I don’t want to tell her. Would malicious spirits even be allowed on school grounds? Don’t they have some sort of warding to protect us from that? Is that even how possessions work? Virginia would have the answers, but what if they contradicted what happened to me tonight? What would that mean? That Grabiner was lying about what happened to me? Why would he do that?

                “He put me in a dungeon,” I say after a moment. “He said when I found my way out, I could go to the dance. I kept going through room after room but after every door it was just another dungeon. I guess he finally let me out when the whole thing was over.”

                “That sounds terrible,” Ellen said, but I shrug.

                “I’m just really tired,” I say, pushing past them to be the first one into the room. “I’m saying good night now, because I’m going to be snoring in about two minutes.”

                I hear Ellen out in the hall as I sit down on my bed. “At least you’re not as loud as Virginia-“

                _“Hey!”_

                I smirk and close my eyes. _Was I really attacked? Or did he do something to me? Did he save me? Did he help me or hurt me?_ Within two minutes, I’m asleep.

\---

                Professor Grabiner had cloaked himself and followed her out into the hallway. He watched her heal herself, watched her sulk, and then watched her join her roommates, talking outside the door to her room. He listened with interest as she explained her “punishment” – which he made a mental note to retain for future detentions.

                She didn’t believe him. She didn’t believe that she had been attacked by a spirit, and for that he had only himself to blame. It was a pretty lame excuse, but he literally couldn’t think of anything else. She had been out for _hours_ , and he was starting to think that she had slipped away for good when she suddenly woke up when he applied too much pain. At least it got her to snap out of it. He was going to have to read up on more green and white magic in the future, in case this happened again. He could always just talk to Professor Potsdam about it – he wasn’t quite sure why he hadn’t fetched her tonight – but for some reason he felt as though _he_ was the one who was supposed to wake her up. At one point he had even stooped to silly fairy tale mythology and kissed her, but she didn’t stir, and he only felt like an idiot when the deed was done.

                She had almost lapsed two times that night: first when he asked if he cared about her, and then when she reenacted part of the conversation they had the night of the May Day ball. She had started to give a similar answer as she had done then, when suddenly her eyes had shut and she slumped back in her chair, as if she had merely dozed off to sleep. In all his attempts to wake her, she had made occasional noises of stirring and her eyes occasionally dashed back and forth beneath her eyelids, but she had not awakened until he inflected her with a crushing amount of pain.

                He would rather not do that again.

                Besides the fact that it may have just been a fluke, he didn’t want to take the chance and let her remember any more until they could figure out a way to take the shield down for good. It was better for her if he didn’t talk to her or say anything to her that might set her off. Being cruel to her would only incite confrontation. He had been going about this the wrong way. He had to ignore her completely, and simply watch her when her back was turned…

                …which was a pity. He had actually found her outburst to have been quite cute, after mulling it over in his head so many times. And her apology today, letting slip that she was concerned for him, that she cared for him, it pleased him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had showed genuine concern for him without getting something in return. And now the one person who did was threatened to be ripped away from him forever. He sighed and headed back to his quarters. There had to be a way to get her memories back, and he wasn’t going to stop until he figured out how.


	15. Chapter 15

                 The first few weeks of November pass by quickly. I actually pass another test with ease, much to my relief and reliance on blue magic. I have seen Grabby occasionally on Saturday mornings or in class, but he has been civil to me, and I to him, although I can’t help the feeling that he is ignoring me on purpose. He doesn’t call on me in class anymore; he doesn’t even look at me, or maybe he only looks when he knows I’m not looking back.

                 Minnie, too, seemed to be avoiding me. She had started to disappear last year after her problems with Kyo, but this year they weren’t even involved and for some reason she had decided to stop hosting her regular Saturday afternoon study sessions in the library altogether, which led to me going to the arcade with Donald and Tommy more and more. I’m not entirely sure if Donald and Ellen are still dating, due to how infrequently I see them together, but they’re at least pleasant to each other when they interact, and I don’t want to get dragged into the middle of any drama.

                 But drama, it seemed, was keen to follow me anyway. When I arrived at the mall that Saturday with Donald and Tommy, I was surprised to see Professor Grabiner and the other students, Minnie included, setting up the kiosk to sell candles for the Thanksgiving tribute a week earlier than usual. Last year, Professor Grabiner had come to me directly to ask which candles to sell, and then I worked the last shift with him. I remember that because…because…I feel a slight tingling sensation in the back of my brain, but the mall is loud and crowded with early holiday shoppers, and I don’t let myself focus on it. It didn’t matter anyway. If anything, he probably just made some rude and scathing comments towards me that my subconscious decided it wasn’t worth remembering. Something does _feel_ right about that justification, but it’s the best one I can give myself.

                I sit in the arcade and ponder over this while Tommy takes over the pinball machine and Donald goofs around on the dance game.

                “You’re going to have to tell us what’s wrong eventually,” Donald says as he jumps and moves his feet in time to the little, colorful arrows on the screen.

                “Why do you assume there’s something wrong?” I ask.

                “Because you’re quiet,” Thomas says. “You’re never quiet unless you’re brooding.”

                “I’m not brooding,” I exclaim. They both turn around to shoot me a look, and I sigh. They have a point. “Did you see the candle fundraiser out there?”

                “Yeah, what about it?” Thomas asks.

                “Didn’t you do that last year?” Donald asks. “I remember hearing it was your idea to make those pink peppermint-scented candles.”

                “They were cute,” I say in my defense. “And they sold well. So win-win.”

                “So why aren’t you working there right now?” Thomas asks.

                “Because no one _asked_ me.” I struggle to keep my voice in check. “Last year it was a week later so I figured the schedule sign-ups just hadn’t gone around yet. But now they’re here, and no one even _asked_ me about it. Not about the candles, or the sign-ups, _nothing_.”

                “Well, Professor Grabiner probably doesn’t want to spend any time alone with you after that telling-off you gave him,” Donald chuckles.

                “You wound a man’s pride, you got to do the time,” Thomas agrees, slipping another coin into the pinball machine.

                “Boys,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “But you’d think at least _Minnie_ would have told me. We used to study together all the time last year. Now I feel like she’s avoiding me.”

                “I haven’t seen her around as much,” Donald shrugs. “At least last year I saw her spending all her time with Kyo. Now I just don’t really see her at all. Maybe she just keeps a different schedule.”

                “Yeah, probably,” I shrug.

                “Or maybe it’s some massive conspiracy against you,” Thomas chimes in.

                “Oh, thanks, way to make me feel better,” I snort. Thomas turns around and grins at me before turning back to his game.

                “Want a way to make you feel better?” he asks without looking at me. “Let’s go over there.”

                “What?” I ask. “No. Hell no.”

                “Yeah,” Donald stops playing and turns to us. “We’ll walk over and be really annoying.”

                “We’ll ask a lot of questions about where you are,” Thomas adds. “Mention that you were the best sales person ever last year.”

                “But you weren’t even _here_ last year,” I remind him.

                “Yeah, well, Donald can say that part then,” he shrugs. “Or the three of us can just walk by the table and make it super obvious that we know they bailed on you.”

                “Nooo,” I cover my face with my hands. “Oh no, I don’t want to see them. It’s too embarrassing. There’s obviously some reason they don’t want me there.”

                “Okay, then we’ll go and figure out what it is,” Thomas says.

                “No no no,” I say quickly. “Don’t do it, guys. Come on? Please? Don’t?”

                “Well now that you’ve dragged us into this,” Donald says. “Now we’re curious to find out too.”

                “Dammit,” I hiss under my breath. They both slip out of the arcade together and start walking towards the table while I slink back into the arcade, cursing under my breath.

                I try to play the dance game that I’m usually at least semi-decent at, but I can’t keep my focus. What were they going to say? What were they going to do? I could see Professor Grabiner not asking me about the candles, but to not even ask me to sign up for a shift? I was still the treasurer, and that was still my responsibility. Did he explicitly tell Minnie to make sure that I didn’t know this was happening today? Why didn’t they want me to help? I’m not even halfway through my first game when they’re already back.

                “We left when he threatened us with detention,” Donald says sheepishly.

                “So you didn’t even find out anything?” I ask. “Lame.”

                “Well, not entirely,” Thomas shifts his feet and looks at Donald. “Minnie was at the table too. With Grumpy pants.”

                “And?”

                “…and they said that Minnie filled in your shift because you said you weren’t feeling well,” Donald finishes softly, gauging my reaction.

                “ _What_?” My jaw drops open. “What the hell? No one even _asked_ me-“

                “We believe you,” Thomas says with a shrug. “I mean, if they both didn’t want you there because they hated your guts, do you think they would have told us that?”

                “Grabby probably would have,” I snort. “Why’s he such a jerk?”

                “Just forget about him,” Donald shakes his head. “Do what my sister said. Ignore him. Stop going to his classes. Your blue magic is already really good; balance it out with other magic. You have four other classes to choose from.”

                “Why do you care so much anyway?” Thomas asks. “Why are you so concerned with what he thinks of you?” Even Donald turns to look at me for an answer to that one.

                “Because,” I say with a huff. “Because I’m a good student. And I’m really good at blue magic and I study and I pay attention and I know all the answers in class and, I don’t know, I’m just a good student. And he treats me like I’m not. He treats me like I’m a troublemaker or something.”

                “Naw, that would be me,” Donald grins. “But I can see your point. It sucks when you’re giving it your all and he’s not giving you the credit you deserve.”

                “Thank you,” I say pointedly. “I’m headed back to campus. I don’t want to stay here anymore. Anyone with me?”

                I end up heading back alone, which doesn’t actually bother me as much as it maybe should have. I had been paying attention in class. I hadn’t caused any more trouble with Grabby. I had been performing my Saturday morning treasury duties perfectly – why did I suddenly feel like I was being treated like a persona non grata?

                I go back to my dorm to study and find that, luckily, Ellen and Virginia aren’t there. I pour over a book on white magic, but it’s more about schools of thought and states of mind and it’s all very philosophical and boring. Without glancing at the clock, I head outside and start walking around the campus aimlessly, first around the trails then, when it gets darker and colder, inside the buildings. I don’t even realize that someone is calling my name until he appears in the doorway of his office.

                “Hey, Tori, Tori, something on your mind?”

                “Oh, hi Jason.” I turn around to face him. He’s not wearing his robes. Instead, he’s wearing khaki pants and a cotton polo. I knew it was Saturday, but I’d never seen a teacher on campus that wasn’t wearing their school robes, even on the weekend. “What are you doing in your office so late on a Saturday night?”

                “Just catching up on some paperwork,” he says. “Why don’t you come in and sit down?”

                I hesitate before following him inside. He doesn’t shut the door, but then again, there’s no one out in the hallway to eavesdrop on our conversation anyway. His office isn’t big, but it’s comfortable. Silly pictures of him with students and friends line the walls and the top shelf of a large bookcase filled with all sorts of books in various sizes and colors. He has a desk piled high with papers in one corner of the room, with a large swivel chair behind it and a plush maroon couch against the adjacent wall.

                “You have a couch in here?” I ask incredulously.  

                “Students come in here a lot to talk,” he says. “Seems a lot more comfortable than a desk chair.”

                “It is,” I agree as I sit down. It’s extremely soft, and I end up sinking back into the cushion.

                “Something on your mind?” he asks. “You don’t need to tell me anything you’re not comfortable sharing.”

                “I just-“ I hesitate. Maybe this is my one chance to actually get some answers. “Do you know…does Professor Grabiner _hate_ me?”

                Jason just laughs. “He hates everybody. Why do you think you’re special?”

                I smirk at that. “Oh come on, you _have_ to know what happened. How I yelled at him after one of the tests?”

                Jason holds up his hands. “As others have probably told you, he had it coming. I heard about the little stunt he pulled on you in the classroom. We, as teachers, are here to help you learn and help you grow. Scaring the shit out of young men and women isn’t going to help anything.”

                I giggle. “I have _never_ heard a teacher curse before.”

                “The way I see it is, you’re going to learn more from me if you see me as a person instead of just as a teacher, right?” he asks. “Respect goes both ways. I don’t want you to see me as just some teacher or authority figure. I’m a person; I want you to treat me like one too.”

                “That’s nice,” I say, thinking it over. “I wish more teachers had that attitude.”

                “More should,” he agrees. “So what did Grabby do to you this time?”

                I giggle again. I’ve never heard another teacher refer to him by his nickname before. “Well, it has to do with my treasurer position. Last year he let me pick the candles for the Thanksgiving tribute and then I helped out selling them in the mall. They sold well and I did a really good job. This year no one even _asked_ me about it – I didn’t even know about it until I was at the mall today. Some of my friends went over and asked them where I was, you know, just to fish for some answers? And they said that another girl had to cover my shift because I said I was sick! But I didn’t even know about it!”

                “Huh, well that’s not right,” Jason says, putting a hand on one knee. “Why do you think they did that?”

                “I don’t know,” I shrug. “I mean, I don’t know why they would lie about it. Maybe he just didn’t want me there because he hates me.”

                “Can I ask…?” Jason hesitates. “Why you’re so concerned with what he thinks of you?”

                I laugh. “Tommy actually asked me that same question today! Um, well, this is going to make me sound really not-humble, but I think I’m a good student. Like I usually do pretty well on tests, or at least that’s what Professor Potsdam told me last year, she was always giving me extra merits for little things I did. Umm, I don’t know, one of my friends says I’m really good with blue magic, which is his area. I go to his classes a lot and I always do my work and pay attention. I get up and do all of my treasury work well and have never had any issues or problems with that…”

                “Basically you’re the good student and you want to be treated like one,” Jason finishes.

                “Exactly!” I exclaim. “It’s like I’m putting in all this hard work; I don’t want a cookie or anything, but I just want him to recognize me. Like, “hey, you’re doing a great job” or something. I don’t know. Now that I say it out loud it doesn’t sound like something he would say.” 

                “To be fair, and I’ve only been here a few months, but I can’t see him saying that to anyone,” Jason says. “But I can understand being young and smart and wanting to impress your teachers. Heck, you impress me, and I have no problem saying that. You are diligent and studious and you work hard.” I look away because I’m blushing. “So I can only imagine that you want to impress ol’ Grabby, because he’s like the top dog, right? The guy that doesn’t give approval to anyone? So if he gives it to you, it makes you special, doesn’t it?”

                “That makes me sound really bad,” I say, rubbing my forehead with my wrist to hide my embarrassment.

                “No it doesn’t,” Jason says. “There is absolutely no problem with working hard and wanting to get recognition for it. And if there’s ever a time when you do something great and you want applause for it from besides just your classmates, just come see me and _I’ll_ give you a cookie.”

                I laugh openly now, and I can’t hide the goofy smile on my face. I can see why so many people like to visit Jason now; he really does have a way of cheering people up. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to just sit here and mope about Grabby on my Saturday night, do you?” I shake my head. “Okay then.” He stands up and puts his hand on the doorframe and I follow him to the door. “By the way…” He reaches out and lifts a few strands of blue hair off my shoulder. “This is a really pretty color.”

                “Thank you,” I say quietly, blushing at the contact. “My roommate’s brother, uh, William Danson, taught me how to do it. It’s actually a lot of fun. Sometimes I’ll make it a little bit darker or lighter, depending on the day or how I’m feeling.”

                “Well it’s really pretty, and it looks great on you,” he says. “Now-“ He reaches into a bowl on his desk and pulls out a little cloth baggie. “For your troubles. Jelly beans. Sorry I don’t have any more festive candy, but I love jelly beans and always keep them on hand.”

                “Thank you, sir,” I say as I take them, smiling up at him.

                “Thank you, Jason,” he corrects me. “Now run along and enjoy your Saturday night. And don’t think about ol’ Grabby-“ he winks at me. “-or I’ll know.”

                “Good night,” I say quickly as I turn away. I’m blushing like mad and grinning like an idiot, clutching the bag of jelly beans to my chest. It’s been a long, long while, possibly a forever, since someone’s made me feel that good about myself. Maybe he has a point. Maybe I’m just working to get the gold star from Grabby because I know I’ll never get it. I shake my head. Heck, I don’t _need_ Grabby’s approval. I have Jason’s. And Potsdam’s. And my roommate’s and my friends’. They all think I’m super smart, well, not as smart as Ellen, but I’m smart in my own way and I’m good at what I’m good at and they appreciate me for it. No matter what I do for Grabby, it will never be enough. I decide to leave Grabby in the past and focus on my future.

                I let out a little skip as I head down the hall and out the building. I feel lighter already.

\---

                Professor Grabiner gritted his teeth. He was spending more and more time cloaked without getting any answers as to who had taken her memory, and it didn’t look like he was getting closer to any sort of a solution. His only hope was that he could keep a close enough eye on her without drawing attention, which is why he was here, standing cloaked outside Jason’s office, listening to their conversation, his scowl deepening the more he heard. He heard mostly everything, saw the little “scene” Jason had pulled outside the door when he touched her hair, but watching Tori literally _skip_ away from his office nauseated him. That was the final straw.

                He waited until he was inside Jason’s office, standing directly behind him, when he decided to uncloak himself. “I must ask you to stop _flirting with my wife_ ,” he said through clenched teeth.

                “Oh, is she your wife?” Jason asked with raised eyebrows. If he had been surprised by Grabiner’s sudden presence behind it, he didn’t show it. “She seems to have forgotten.”

                Grabiner’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Don’t touch her.”

                Jason sighed in disinterest. “Unlike you, Grabby, I have no interest in dating, let alone marrying, my students.”

                Grabiner made a low rumbling sound in his throat. “You do not talk about me with her. Do you understand?”

                “I’m not one of your students, Hieronymous-“

                “Don’t call me that.”

                “Okay, Grabby. Point still stands. I’m not one of your students and, surprise surprise, you don’t scare me.”

                “I’m not trying to scare you,” Grabiner said dismissively.

                “Okay, then you’re trying to dissuade me,” Jason shrugged and moved things around in his office as he spoke. “To be honest, I don’t care. That girl is one of my students and I’m treating her like one of my students.”

                “Oh, yes, everyone knows how _friendly_ you are,” Grabiner sneered.

                “And everyone knows how delightful you can be,” Jason said casually. “She was upset. With you, not as your wife over some domestic squabble, but as her teacher. I made her feel better.”

                “You-“

                “I what? I paid her a compliment. I told her she was smart, told her she was pretty and told her to stop dwelling on the negative influences in her life.” Jason raised his eyebrows. “I mean, seriously Grabby, has it really been that long since you were a student? She’s a teenage girl, she’s upset. She wants to hear people tell her that she’s smart and pretty, they all do. Let me explain how this works: you compliment her, make her feel special. She’s happier, pays more attention, does better in school, makes better friendships and goes out into the world as a successful adult with high self-esteem. That’s what you’re supposed to do. You’re not supposed to trick them into marriage contracts and shag them.”

                “The marriage was never consummated,” Grabiner said through gritted teeth, accenting each syllable. “And I didn’t _trick_ her into anything. _She_ made a mistake.”

                “So you mean, you made a mistake and she got swept up in it?” Jason asked. Grabiner didn’t answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You see, Grabby, you and I are two very different people. I choose to see the best in people. I think that if you encourage them and give them positive attention that they’ll be more receptive students, and they’ll learn more. They’ll actually _listen_ to what you have to say. Opposed to, say, your approach, where you think they’ll pay better attention if you threaten to set them on fire at any moment.”

                Grabiner snorted. “You have your methods, I have mine.”

                “Then let me make something clear,” Jason replied simply. “That girl is one of my students. You don’t seem to like her making friends or being around other people and yeah, yeah Potsdam explained why, but you are so _jealous_ stalking her around the school like a jilted lover. It’s a terrible thing what happened, no one deserves to have their memories taken, but you’ve got  to stop treating her like crap and then chasing her around undercover.” He propped up a book on his shoulder. “Seriously, man, it’s creepy.”

                Grabiner narrowed his eyes at him. “You seem awfully concerned about her, for someone who’s ‘just a student.’”

                “No, I’m the right level of concerned,” Jason said. “Because I want to make sure this girl is happy here. I want to make sure she gets a good education. And you’re preventing her from doing that. Honestly? I hope she does get her memories back as soon as possible so she can get away from you once and for all.”

                Grabiner narrowed his eyes and stared him down for a moment before stalking out of the room. The list of suspects was short, but Jason Coleman’s name just moved to the top of the list.


	16. Chapter 16

                I thought my happy mood would have faded after my meeting with Jason, but it persisted into the week. I stopped going to Professor Grabiner’s classes. Instead I went to red magic with Virginia about three times a week, and we both sometimes visited his office after class for extra candy. Ellen had gone back to studying white magic with Professor Potsdam, and we didn’t try to stop her. Even on the weekends, I actually woke up earlier and got most of the mail and sorting done early, so I didn’t even have to see Grabby. Then I would go and hang out with Donald and Thomas, or sometimes just Thomas, at the arcade later in the day. It was a happy little routine, and it was a big weight off of my shoulders, not having to worry about what Grabby was going to yell at me for next.

                Still, I couldn’t help but feel like there was something I was forgetting. Sometimes I would be just walking through the trails or sitting in class when I would start thinking about Professor Grabiner. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t really anything specific about him; sometimes it was even just his name, like someone was shouting it to me across a great distance. Sometimes I would be in class, or reading a book to myself, when I would suddenly start wondering what he was doing. It was strange. I didn’t want to think about him, but I just did. But lately whenever it happened I just started humming a little tune to myself and focused on that until the thoughts of him went away. Of course I would have loved to know _why_ I was thinking about him, but there was no one I could really talk to about that, not even Jason.

                Either way, thanks to Jason, my Thanksgiving vacation was a lot better than I thought it was going to be. At first I wanted to complain to them about Professor Grabiner, but there was so much I couldn’t tell them and if they thought a teacher was mistreating me they may not let me go back. Instead, I told them all about Jason and how he was such a great teacher and how he thought I was really smart and he how gives all the students jelly beans. They ate it up. They told me they had never seen me so happy, and that was when I realized just how much Professor Grabiner had been weighing me down.

                The next test was the Friday after Thanksgiving break. I was teleported into the exam room as usual, but was told upon entering by a voice I couldn’t quite place that there would be no doors this time. Instead the disembodied voice told me that I would encounter a series of monsters and that I would be teleported out once they “no longer posed a threat.”

                Upon entering the dungeon, I was immediately met with two jail cells on either side of me. I tried to peer inside of one, but it was hard to see in the darkness and I couldn’t make anything out. I thought about opening one, but I wasn’t sure if they were like dogs at the starting gate, waiting for the signal to jump out and devour me alive, so I moved quickly past them.

                It looked like there was a crooked labyrinth maze ahead of me and I wanted to conserve my magic, so I decided not to use Awareness and to just start walking instead. I started down one of the hallways, hearing listening to the sound of my sneakers scraping against the cold dungeon floor. A right, a left, a right, another right, and suddenly I realized that I was staring down a long hallway, with little hallways and alcoves on either side. _Maybe the monsters were that way?_

I started walking down the hallway, holding my breath and being as quiet as possible. Ahead, I could hear things scuffling, moving around in the darkness, but it was impossible to tell what direction it was coming from. Suddenly, as if on cue, I heard a monster’s snarl and saw a large black shape rushing at me from a side corridor that I just passed. As it was about to leap out at me, I quickly got down on one knee and put my hands in front of me, summoning a blast of magic. I squinted my eyes shut and turned my face away, feeling the energy leave my hands. When I opened my eyes again, the monster was gone.

                Figuring that was probably the right way to go, I ducked down the side corridor that the monster had just come out of and followed a series of twists and turns that led to an abyss. I saw a pile of rocks against the wall and was about to use Stone Shape to make a bridge, when I heard something stomping towards me. I quickly put two fingers on my forehead to concentrate and used Awareness to see the other side of the abyss; it was safe, solid ground. I could hear the monster getting closer, could smell the putrid stench of his rotted fur. I closed my eyes, pictured myself landing safely on the other side of the abyss, and arrived there as soon as the monster reached where I had just been standing.

                “Can’t get me now,” I taunted. The monster looked like he was ready to make a running start to leap over. _Could he do that? Was there some other way that he could get around the abyss?_

“Oh, here, I’ll help you.” I held up my hands and started to transfigure the stones to make a bridge. The monster seemed confused, but nervously started following the stones that I had placed, one by one. When he was standing out in the middle of the bridge, I quickly ripped all the stones away, letting them fall into the abyss beneath me, save the one stone he was standing on. It was close enough that I could see the glint of his teeth in the darkness as it snarled at me, realizing that it had literally walked straight into my trap.

                “Sorry,” I said casually as I lowered my hands and watched both the last remaining stone and the monster fall into the abyss with a howl.

I snickered to myself as I kept going. I was walking along a particularly dark passageway when all of a sudden I heard something growl. I kept walking, slower this time, trying to make as little noise as possible, and used Track Scent to see which direction the monster had gone in. I closed my eyes and focused. _Weird…it indicated that the monster was right-_

                I threw up a shield which cushioned some of the blow, but the monster had materialized right behind me. _SHIT!!_ I cried out as I jumped to my knees and started running, arms pumping at my sides, again reminded that it was a good thing that I had been on the track team at my old school, and a good thing that I kept up with Virginia and attended all of our Sport Club meetings. I started to gain some lead on the monster, pulling ahead, and ducked into an extremely narrow side corridor in an attempt to lose it. I could see vines on the floors and walls all around me, and I slowed my pace as I ran through them so as not to trip or get stuck. I followed it down to the end of the passageway. I wasn’t sure which was worse: the fact that I had hit a dead end, or the fact that there was another monster standing in front of me.

                I cursed under my breath as I heard the monster behind me getting closer. I looked around quickly, trying to figure out some way to use the vines to my advantage when I spotted a stone clearing just a few feet in front of me, where there weren’t any vines on the floor or walls. Perfect. Hearing the monster extremely close behind me, I threw myself towards it, rolling on one shoulder and propping myself up on one knee. I waited, letting each monster approach me slowly from each side of me. I could see them much better now, bright yellow eyes and sharp claws glinting in the dim light. If I did this wrong, it was going to be very, _very_ painful. A little closer…a little closer…I took a deep breath.

                _NOW._

I threw my hands out by my sides, twisting my wrists, and vines started to twist around their legs and arms, holding them in place. I held it for a moment as they tried to rip through the vines with their claws. I needed to make sure that they were stuck good and tight for my plan to work. I waited for the vines to start wrapping around their bodies before I twisted my wrists again, throwing my palms upward and splaying all my fingers out at once. On either side of me, the vines burst into flames and I held my position as I listened to their groans of pain, waiting it out. As soon as the monsters disappeared, I pushed a tunnel of wind on either side of me to quell the flames. 

                I stood up as the charred remains of the vines slithered back into the walls. The walls themselves rumbled and then slipped down into the ground, and I was left standing in the middle of the default dungeon layout.

                “Yes!” I cheered and clapped my hands, doing a little jump into the air, waiting to be teleported back into the main room. “Yes! That was _so awesome!”_ I jumped up and down and clapped until my surroundings changed, and I was suddenly face to face with Professor Grabiner. I quickly dropped my arms to my sides and stopped cheering.

                I waited for him to say something to me, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there and sighed, putting one hand on his temple as he shook his head. _Why? Because of the cheering? Or did I fail?_

                “What, uh, what’s wrong, sir?” I ask quickly. “I thought I passed the test. I defeated all the monsters.”  

                “Yes, you defeated them,” he says quietly, and there’s an odd edge to his voice. “You completed the objective. You passed.”

                “Then why the long face?” I ask. I know I probably shouldn’t take such a casual tone with him, but I can’t believe it. I did _amazing_. Blasting that monster into pieces when it attacked me? Luring the monster out over the bridge and then dropping it into the abyss? And my last stunt? With the vines and the flames and the _wooooosh_? It was like I was a character in the best video game ever.

                 “Did you happen to notice the cells at the beginning?” he asks. I tilt my head in confusion and nod slowly.

                “Isn’t that where they came out of?”

                “ _If_ you had investigated them, you might have found them to be quite empty,” he says. “Those cells were designed to _hold_ the creatures. As someone who professes to be quite skilled at blue magic, I would have expected you to teleport them there.”

                “Oh,” I say slowly. It’s really the only thing I can say. I didn’t think about that. I had been so focused on the blasting and the running that I didn’t really consider all of my options.

                “Of course, we award five merits for completing the objective,” he continues. “And then we usually award another five for the non-violent approach. I don’t think I need to tell you that those merits will be withheld.”

                I wrinkle my nose. I mean, I knew that. Last year, we were given a test where I was confronted with a Hodag for the first time, and Professor Potsdam gave me the five point bonus for using Awareness to find an empty dungeon block and then teleporting the monster into it. Yes, I could totally understand that the non-violent approach was better in real world applications, but this was just a test. Surely we could have _some_ fun now and again, couldn’t we?

                “That’s okay, sir,” I say, keeping my voice as sweet as possible. “I know I completed the test in a different way than you would have preferred, but I think I did a good job considering and I’m proud of myself.” He narrows his eyes and glares at me, but I shrug it off. “Have a good day, sir.”

                I can hear him sigh behind me. “Tori, wait.” Hearing him use my first name stops me in my tracks. I turn around to face him. “You-“ He shakes his head. “You did do a good job, considering _your_ approach.”

                “What?” I ask blankly.

                “Despite my obvious preference for my own specialty, you reached out to other branches of magic in order to complete your objective, and as your professor I should be encouraging your-“ he pauses, searching for the right word. “- _enthusiasm_ for other magics.”

                I frown. Was he really complimenting me? I know I had told Jason before Thanksgiving break that I was searching for Grabby’s approval, but he told me to just _forget_ about him. There is no way that Jason would have gone ahead and asked Professor Grabiner to compliment me, which could only mean that this compliment was genuine.

                “Thank you, sir,” I say quietly.

                “If-“ He hesitates. “You have worked very hard, and you have already outpaced most of the material that I cover in my lectures. If you prefer, you could meet me after class on Monday’s for, er, _private_ lessons. This is not mandatory and this is not going to gain you extra merits. This is simply-“

                “Yes.” The words come automatically to my lips, and he looks surprised. I feel surprised too. Hadn’t I been feeling so much better about myself since I had been avoiding him? Why would I want to spend more time with him, especially alone time, considering that he had almost attacked me when we were alone last?

                I can feel the tension building between us, and I quickly look away. “Yes, um, that sounds good. I’ll see you Monday afternoon, Professor. Thank you.” I quickly place my hand on the doorknob and make my way out of the room.

                When I had left the dungeon, my heart was racing and I could feel the adrenaline streaming through my body, but now it felt like it was happening for a whole different reason. _Why did I say yes to him?_ I walk over to the trails and sit down on one of the benches, drawing my knees into my chest.

                Last year, I had used blue magic in almost every single test to the point where Professor Potsdam had actually encouraged me to focus on other magics. I understood that I should branch out, especially because blue magic had the greatest potential to be paired with other magics, but the problem was that I didn’t even _think_ of using blue magic on this test, and that had never happened to me before.

                I loved blue magic. Professor Grabiner may not have realized it, but everyone around me sure knew it. Just like Ellen focused on white magic and Virginia focused on red magic, I focused on blue magic. It was my thing. I loved teleporting, both myself and other things. I was good at it. I had a knack for it. So why didn’t I even consider using it for this test? Was it because I had been avoiding Grabby? Is that why I had been thinking about him so much recently?

                I think back to one of my first weeks at school here at Iris, when Professor Potsdam had explained to us that magic came from inside of us, and that we could access that power, but only by being true to ourselves. Blue magic was my thing. If it didn’t immediately occur to me to use it, did that mean that I wasn’t being true to myself? I think it over. I had been happier lately, sure, but fulfilled? Learning red magic was fun and all, but I didn’t get the same kind of feeling in Jason’s class as I had in Grabiner’s. Maybe private study lessons with him were the perfect thing to get me back on track.

                I close my eyes and focus on myself, on my body. _What do I want? What do I want?_ As if in answer, the sound of my stomach growling fills my ears. “You’re right,” I say aloud. “No one should do this much deep thinking on an empty stomach.” And with that, I stand up and head towards the cafeteria.


	17. Chapter 17

                The week went by quickly enough. Virginia was proud of me for using red magic to torch all the monsters, while Ellen of course favored the traditional approach of teleporting the monsters into the cells. “You really didn’t think of that?” she had asked me when I explained that I didn’t realize that that’s what the cells were supposed to be used for. “That doesn’t seem like you at all.”

                I had just shrugged it off at the time and blamed it on the fact that I had been going to red magic the entire week before the test. It was a good enough excuse, a believable one, but an excuse all the same. Still, I didn’t need to draw my roommates into my existential nonsense. In fact, I didn’t even tell them that Professor Grabiner had offered me private lessons with him. I didn’t know how they would react to it. I knew some of the teachers gave private lessons during the summer, when there was much less classwork, but not during the school year. I was pretty sure Professor Grabiner didn’t even offer private lessons as a rule – he couldn’t stand being around students. He hated them. So why did he want to be around me? Why was I special? Because I had stood up to him? Or was there something else?

                As it turns out, though, I didn’t have much to worry about. Professor Grabiner was no friendlier to me than he was in class, so it didn’t bother me as much. The thing that did bother me, though, is the fact that we weren’t really doing any blue magic. We weren’t even really doing any regular magic. We were doing something that I could only best describe as memory exercises. For example, one day he put together a Rubik’s Cube and then made me try to unsolve it exactly the way he had solved it. I wasn’t quite sure what it was supposed to prove, but he sat there and watched me the entire time, arms folded across his chest as I struggled to turn it this way and that. I couldn’t tell from his expression whether he was sulking or annoyed at my lack of progress. He never said anything. He seemed content to just sit there and watch me silently.

                The only person who did know about my private lessons with Professor Grabiner was Tommy, and that was simply because he had followed me there after one of my classes. For some reason, he couldn’t, or rather, refused to understand why I would even consider going to private lessons with the professor who had made me miss the Halloween dance. I went to the Halloween dance last year so it wasn’t as big a deal to me, but I supposed it was Tommy’s first dance at the school, and having his date bail on him at the last second for detention was kind of a blow. Regardless, he still tried to persuade me to hang out with him and skip going to private lessons. He was not happy with what I chose.

                The second week of December brought upon the annual Secret Santa tradition of gift-giving. Last year I had gotten Virginia and due to a major snow storm, we had all stayed in the gym and made cards for each other. I made Virginia a purple card and decorated it with warrior girls swinging swords and shooting arrows, which she absolutely loved. This year, though, the forecast seemed clear, so when I walked up to the bowl on the stage, I was excited to see who I would have to shop for. Would I have to get books for Ellen? A magical amulet for Virginia? A whoopee cushion for Donald?

                I closed my eyes and grabbed the first piece of paper that touched my fingertips and pulled it out of the bowl. The paper slip tucked firmly in my hand, I went back to my seat and unfurled the slip of paper and read the name to myself.

                _Hieronymous Grabiner_

I stare at the letters, trying to make sense of it. It’s a joke, right? Surely it must be some sort of joke. I try to dispel it, to see if it was charmed, but no luck. There was no mistake: Professor Grabiner was my Secret Santa.

                “You get me?” Virginia’s head pops over my shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the small black letters.

                “No!” I quickly fold up the piece of paper in my hand, crumpling it up into a tiny little ball.

                “Aww, who’d you get?” Virginia asks. “Come on, tell me.”

                “That is _not_ the point of a Secret Santa,” Ellen huffs. “You’re just going to have to wait until next week to see if she got you.”

                “From the look on her face, I’d say she didn’t,” Virginia observes.

                “Not now,” I hiss. “When we get back to the room.” Virginia and Ellen exchange glances, but don’t say anything. We talk about other things, like Sports Club, until everyone finally finishes picking a name before we head back to the room.

                “Well, what is it?” Virginia asks as we sit on our respective beds. “Who the heck did you get that’s making you wig out like this?”

                There’s a knock on the door. “Who is it?” I yell loudly.

                “Donald,” he calls back.

                “Okay, you can come in,” I say. The door opens slightly and he comes in, but his grin disappears when he sees our faces.

                “Am I interrupting a secret meeting?” he asks.

                “I don’t know,” Virginia says with a pointed look in my direction. “Just waiting for Tori to spill the beans on who she got for her Secret Santa.”

                I gulp. It’s just a name, but for some reason I have trouble getting the words out. “Grabby.”

                “No way,” Donald says, but I unfold the paper and hold it out to them. “His first name is Hiero-hiero-hiero-“

                “Hieronymous,” Ellen says quickly, pronouncing it perfectly on her first try.

                “How did I not know that?” Donald laughs.

                “Wait, you got a teacher?” Virginia asks. “Is that even allowed?”

                “Maybe Professor Potsdam wants me to thank him for the private lessons he’s been giving me?” I wonder aloud.

                “Private lessons?” Ellen asks quietly. The room is suddenly a lot quieter than it was a minute ago.

                “Did I not…” I hesitate. “Happen to mention that at all?”

                They all sit there quietly. “Why is he giving you private lessons?” Ellen asks after another awkward moment of silence has passed.

                “I’m not sure,” I say. “It’s not even really _lessons_ ; it’s more like memory games or something.”

                “Maybe he thinks you have brain damage,” Donald teases.

                “Oh if he does, then I think you should be there right alongside me,” I tease back.

                “Well, have you asked him?” Virginia asks.

                I pause. I had considered asking him, but this was Professor Grabiner we were talking about. I could ask, but I wasn’t exactly guaranteed a straight answer if I did. “Well, I can ask him when I give him his present.”

                “What are you going to get him?” Ellen asks.

                “Something interesting,” I reply.

                “Like…?” Virginia asks.

                The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “A blue snow cone.”

                I can hear Ellen’s voice say, “What?” but it sounds very far away, like she’s shouting it to me across the gymnasium. I feel extremely dizzy all of a sudden, as a weird itching sensation starts to take hold in the back of my brain. I think I can hear someone talking, but it comes out in a rush of vowels and syllables. I’m aware of how they all must be looking at me, and so I quickly bite the inside of my cheek to help me stay in the present. I don’t stop until the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

                “Hello, earth to Tori,” Virginia says, waving a hand in front of my face.

                “Sorry,” I say quickly. The inside of my mouth is sore now, and they are all looking at me with concern plastered all over their faces. “Just trying to think of something out of the box.”

                “What about a book?” Ellen asks.

                “Something sarcastic, like _Elementary Magic 101_ ,” Donald suggests.

                “Or, _How to Have a Conversation like a Normal Human Being_ ,” Virginia offers.

                “Or maybe I should ask Professor Potsdam,” I say quickly.

                Last year I had suspected that Professor Potsdam had rigged the Secret Santa, especially because I got Virginia, Virginia got Ellen, and Ellen got me. If I got Professor Grabiner’s name this year, it was only because Professor Potsdam wanted it to be so. But why did she want me to give him anything? Why did she care? Was it because of the private lessons he had been giving me? Was it because she felt like I should repay him for yelling at him weeks ago? She had never confronted me about it directly, but she _had_ to have known…

                I scratch the back of my head where the itching sensation had crept up moments before. There was nothing there now but a dull ache. Even still, thinking it over, I could dissect the words in my head. Nine words, followed by a girlish giggle. It sounded like my voice, at least, I think it did, but when would I have ever said them? And to whom? And why couldn’t I remember? I repeat the words over and over again in my head, trying to make sense of them.

 _But have_ you _ever had a blue snow cone?_


	18. Chapter 18

                “Er, Professor Potsdam? I was wondering if I could talk to you about a personal matter?”

                “A personal matter?” Potsdam asks as she waves me into her office. “Oh yes, always have time for those. What is it, dear?”

                I sit down in a chair on the other side of her desk as she offers me a small bowl filled with candy. They look like those small, colorful pastel breath mints that my grandmother always had in her room when I was child, but I don’t touch them. “I got Professor Grabiner as my Secret Santa.”

                “Oh, really?” The look on her face and the inflection in her voice is spot on, but I still suspect it’s fake. Even still, I’m not going to call her out on it. The best I can do is play along. “Oh, and I bet you’re here to ask me for advice on what to get him, hm?”

                “Yes,” I say quickly. “I mean, I don’t really know how that well, so.”

                “But don’t you?” She winks at me, and I just blink at her.

                “I’m sorry, what?” I ask, unable to hide the look of blatant confusion that had since crossed my face.  

                She chuckles lightly. “Oh, come now, I only meant that you know what he likes. You actively attend his classes and you have been a treasurer for the past year now. Surely you have picked up on some of his interests and hobbies to have some idea what to get him.”

                “Books?” I ask lamely.

                “There’s a start,” she says. “What kind of books?”

                I hesitate. “Probably really smart books that are far above my level of comprehension, as he would say.”

                “Hm, at least for now,” she says. “What else does he like?”

                I sit there and think about it, trying to call upon my memory to bring me something of value. _Think, Tori, think._ There _had_ to be something. I vaguely remember him reading some kind of book, but the details are fuzzy and the only thing I can remember for sure was that it was in a different language, so that probably wouldn’t help me much. Had I never asked him about his interests? I mean, I knew he was a private person, but he had to have let slip that there was _something_ he enjoyed, maybe not for fun, but…relaxation?

Suddenly I hear someone else’s voice talking in my head. _Chamber music and wine._ It sounds like his voice, but it’s like a whisper at the other end of a long tunnel, bouncing off rusty, metal pipes as the words try to make their way to me. I try to trace the voice back to its source but suddenly I feel a burst of pain in the back of my head. I close my eyes reflexively. _But have_ you _ever had a blue snow cone?_ My voice. Suddenly I am surrounded by words and colors, whispers and murmurs. Just as a shape starts forming in front of me, it quickly dissolves away into a burst of color. I can’t tell what it is but I want to see it. I want to know what it is. I want to know what’s happening to me.

                I blink to try to focus better, and that’s when the colors disappear. The voices disappear. The only thing I can see is Professor Potsdam, staring down at me.

                “Quite a good idea!” she says.

                “Good idea?” I repeat blankly. There’s still a strange tingling itch, right behind my hairline, but the burning sensation had faded.

                “Your idea,” she repeats. “I will look around and find some interesting books for you to choose from. Meet me back here, say, Saturday at noon? I can give you directions to his room and you can give it to him then.”               

                “That sounds good,” I hesitate. “Um, Professor, did you happen to do magic on me, just now?”

                She laughs. “Well, why no, dear, why ever would I do that?”

                “I just…” I hesitate, but I’m not sure why. There was a specific _feeling_ associated with the particular burst of pain, and though I can’t put my finger on what the feeling is, I think I know how to summon it again. “Nothing, thank you very much, Professor.”

                The next week goes by ridiculously slowly. Professor Grabiner is busy on Monday afternoon, so unfortunately he can’t have private lessons with me, and I hang out with Tommy instead. We walk around the trails and talk about classes and about the minor pranks he pulls with Donald. At one point he tries to hold my hand and I let him, for a minute. With everything else that is going on right now, it just doesn’t feel right.

                For some reason, I am so anxious about Saturday that I can barely sleep Friday night. I end up sleeping through my first alarm for the first time ever and head down to the mail room fifteen minutes late. By the time I arrive, Professor Grabiner is already there and grumpier than usual. “Ms. Brown, I’m glad that you could take the time out of your busy morning in order to show up for your weekly duties. If only we could all live on your irresponsibly tardy schedule, I’m sure we-“

                I’m pretty sure it’s because of sleep deprivation, but for whatever the reason, I giggle into the back of my sleeve. “Oh?” he raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure you can enlighten me as to what exactly is so funny in detention this afternoon.”

                “I thought you weren’t hosting detention today,” I say. “Donald hasn’t done anything lately.”

                “Then it looks like you and I will be spending the afternoon alone then,” he says promptly.

                “I mean, that works for me,” I shrug, plopping myself down into one of the chairs so I can begin to sort the allowances. “I already had a date planned for us anyway.” I keep my face as straight as possible and concentrate on my work, pretending not to notice his stare. He turns around and leaves the room without another word, and I laugh quietly to myself. It doesn’t take me long to sort the allowances and assemble the packages for delivery.

                At first I thought it was funny, but by the time I get to delivering packages in Butterfly Hall, I feel like I’m going to be sick. My sleep deprived brain thought that it was a funny joke, but my now-slightly-more-awake brain sees it as something different: a flirtation. Did I really _flirt_ with him? As I think it over, I can feel my heart beating just a little bit faster, and it almost feels like I can’t quite catch my breath. The whole exchange had actually seemed quite natural, and yet he was my teacher. It was totally inappropriate. What could I possibly have been thinking? He probably had no idea about the Secret Santa, no idea that I was going to stop by his private room later that day, and then after a joke about a date, I was just going to show up and give him a present? The whole thing just sounded too weird, even to my ears.

                By the time I get to Professor Potsdam’s office, my insides are a wreck. I am sleep deprived, tired, embarrassed, slightly hungry, but most of all, I just want to get this over with. I have no idea how I’m going to apologize to him or if I even should at all. Oddly enough, “I’m sorry for flirting with you, I didn’t really mean it” doesn’t sound like much of an apology.

                But before I can enter her office, Potsdam comes out to greet me, holding a large, wrapped book in her hand. “Here you are, sweetheart.”

                “Wait, is that his present?” I ask. “I thought you were going to let me choose.”

                “Oh, well,” she shrugs. “It’s hard to find a book that Hieronymous hasn’t read. And I think he will _especially_ enjoy this one.” There’s a glint in her eye as she hands it to me.

                “What’s it called?” I ask, weighing the package in one hand. It’s not as heavy as it looks.

                “That you’ll have to find out when he opens it, hm?” she asks. “Why spoil the surprise? Now, do you know how to get to his quarters?”

                “No,” I say hesitantly, but as she’s giving me directions, I can’t help but feel as though I’ve been there before.

                And as I follow her directions outside his door, I feel like I’ve _definitely_ been there before, like the muscle memory in my legs was guiding me the whole way. But I shake off the feeling as I knock on his door. I have no idea what his reaction is going to be like and I need to prepare myself for anything.

                “Who’s there?” he calls through the door.

                “Tori,” I say quickly. “I, um, have something for you.”

                The door opens before I can finish speaking and Professor Grabiner is standing there with the strangest look on his face. He doesn’t invite me in, he just stares at me, looking me up and down.

                “Um,” I offer the present in front of me. “Professor Potsdam wanted me to deliver your Secret Santa to you personally. She told me where you live.”

                “Did she?” he asks, his mouth twisting into a frown. “Come in.”

                I brush a strand of hair behind my ear and step over the threshold. In the middle of the room, pushed up against the back wall, is a king-sized white bed with gossamer drapes with two dark wooden nightstands on either side. There is a dresser and a large bookshelf in one corner of the room and a large desk in the other. There were no pictures of anything, anywhere. It was all very plain, like model furniture in a rental apartment, but it had a lived-in feel nonetheless. “I like your room,” I say quickly in an attempt to defuse the tension.

                He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he simply holds a hand out for the book. He unwraps it slowly, slightly turned away from me. He undoes each of the corners carefully, one at a time, and I wonder idly if he thinks it’s a joke gift ready to go off. I take advantage of the silence to make my apology. “Look, sir, about what I said this morning, I apologize; I don’t know what came over me.”

                He holds up his hand and I immediately stop talking, but I wonder if there’s a reason that he’s still hiding his face from me. But as he finally unwraps the book and holds it out in front of him I can see a look of amusement cross his face. “This isn’t from you.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

                “Well,” I stammer. “I got you as my Secret Santa and I wasn’t quite sure what to get you, so I went to Professor Potsdam and she wrapped this book up for me.”

                He nods appreciatively, his eyebrows still raised. I try to peek over his shoulder. “Umm, what is it?” His eyes glitter with amusement as he tilts the book over his arm so I can see it. It’s just a plain brown book, a bit thick, with letters sprawled across the top in faded gold lettering. “Umm, that’s not English, is it?” I stare at the letters. They don’t even appear to be English letters, although in a way they almost do, as if a child was inventing his own alphabet, neglecting the legs on an R or the cross on a T. “Wait, is this book coded? Did she charm this so I didn’t know what I was giving you?”

                He raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t seem all that surprised. “You are astonishingly perceptive when you want to be.”

                “I-“ My jaw drops, and I’m not sure how to take this sudden compliment. “I am always perceptive; you just seem not to notice it.”

                “Yes, well.” He puts the book on his desk and walks away from it. I want to open the book to see if the pages are coded too, but I don’t dare move. I’m still really confused. Why would she go through all the trouble of having me give him a book when they both don’t want me to know what it was? Was there some kind of inside joke that I wasn’t in on?

                “Is there anything else you need?” he asks, and I hesitate. I try to focus on the feeling that I got in Professor Potsdam’s office, but it’s not here now. I can just recall a faint impression, but nothing more. He seems charitably nice to me right now, and I decide to just go for it.

                “Sir, may I talk to you?” I ask suddenly, massaging the muscles in my upper arm nervously. I’m not sure if he notices my discomfort or is just being uncharacteristically nice, but he waves to the chair by his desk and I sit down. He leans against a bed post and waits for me to continue.

                “I…” I struggle with the words. “I have this problem. It’s something of a personal nature.”

                “Personal nature?” he muses, although he doesn’t look altogether unkind at the moment. “One can only wonder then, why you came to me instead of Professor Potsdam, or Professor Coleman?”

                I shift uncomfortably in my seat. _Maybe this was a bad idea._ “I don’t know, I just don’t think they’d understand.”

                He raises his eyebrows and sits down on the bed, waiting for me to continue. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks curious. “I-“ I look away and tug on a strand of hair nervously. “Sir, is there any way to know if I’ve been hexed?”

                “Hexed?” he repeats. He looks almost surprised.

                “Or cursed?” I ask.

                He contemplates this for a moment and seems to choose his words carefully. “Why do you think you’ve been cursed?”

                “Well,” I twist my hands in my lap. I’m not sure how to talk about this with him, and yet for some reason I feel like he’s the only person who can help me. “Do you remember Halloween night? When I was with you? In detention?”

                He nods but says nothing.

                “What really happened?” I ask, meeting his gaze and holding it. His eyes are such a light brown they almost look red. It’s such an interesting color and I’m wondering how I never realized that he had red-brown eyes before when I’m suddenly aware that I’m holding my breath. He’s still not saying anything and we’re just sitting there, watching one another, waiting for the other to make the first move.

                “Why do you think you’ve been cursed?” he asks again, dropping my gaze.

                “I keep getting flashes of… _stuff_ ,” I gesture into the air. “It’s really hard to describe. It’s like a burning itch in the back of my brain and then it just explodes.” I shrug uncomfortably, turning away from him. “Sometimes I hear, I don’t know, words? But most of the time it’s just like, colors and sounds.”

                “Words?” he asks. “What words?”

                My face goes scarlet and suddenly I can’t look at him. I twist in my chair, visibly uncomfortable. How am I supposed to tell him that I heard – _think_ I heard - him tell me he likes chamber music and wine? Why would he even tell me that anyway? I glance at him quickly but his face is impassive. He’s waiting, and I’m not sure what to say.

                “I think-“ I swallow hard. “It was a, a piece of a…conversation? Between….us?”

                I glance at him nervously. His face is set, and I’m not sure if he’s gritting his teeth. There seems to be something going on inside himself, some kind of internal struggle, but I have no idea what it is. _Maybe he thinks I’m going crazy?_

                “And what did we say to each other?” he asks after a moment. His voice hinges on the last word, as if he’s not sure he’ll be able to get out the whole phrase.

                “Um,” I scratch my head again. _Chamber music and wine. Chamber music and wine._ What if I am actually going crazy? There’s only one way to be sure. “Can I ask you a question first?” He raises his eyebrows but again, says nothing. “Sir, have you ever had a blue…snow cone?”

                The effect on him is immediate. He stands up and runs a hand through his hair, and for the first time I realize he’s not wearing a hat. I always see him with his hat. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’m seeing him without one. Why didn’t I pick up on that sooner? Obviously I’m not as perceptive as I first claimed to be.

                “Is this a game?” he whirls on me suddenly, and my eyes go wide. I can feel my heart beating in my chest.

                “A…g-game?” I stammer. He looks mad now, his face set, his typical angry glare again at the ready.

                “Making up nonsense,” he murmurs under his breath. “And when did this last episode occur, exactly?”

                “Yesterday, in Professor Potsdam’s office,” I answer automatically. He’s mad and I honestly don’t know why. Does he think I’m making it up? Does he think I’m playing a joke on him?

                “And instead you chose to wait to come to me with this?” he asks. “Instead of asking her about it?”

                “No, no,” I stammer. “I just, I had a weird feeling, about you.” He looks taken aback, but still angry. “I just had a weird feeling and I just, I don’t know, I felt like I should talk to you about it.” He stares at me, like he’s trying to decide if I’m serious or not. _Chamber music and wine. Chamber music and wine. Chamber music-_

“I should go,” I stand up quickly and head for the door.

                “Tori,” he says, and there’s something strange in his voice that makes me turn around. He’s standing there, looking unsure, and for some reason I can feel the weird feeling creeping up on me again. It sort of blossoms out from the center of my chest, filling my lungs. It’s a mixture of excitement and fear, apprehension and exhilaration, and underneath it all, a strong feeling of…. _trust_? It echoes in me like a heartbeat, pulsing, and for a minute I just stand there, taking it in, trying to preserve it, so I can dissect it on my own in private later. “Is there anything else? Any other, words, as you said?”

                _Chamber music and wine._

“No sir.” I look down at my feet, unable to hide how defeated I sound. For some reason, I don’t want to say it. It feels like my little secret, to keep for myself. I don’t know why I don’t tell him, especially since I’m so sure he was the one who said it. Couldn’t it have been just some silly conversation we had one Saturday morning? But if it was, why do I feel such a strong link to it? Is it something I overheard? Something I shouldn’t have? And, the most troubling question of all, why can’t I remember?

                “I think,” he says at length. “It would do you well not to focus on these episodes. Do you have them often?”

                “Not really,” I shrug, thinking back. “The only times that I’ve ever really had them was-“ _When I was with Professor Potsdam talking about_ you _. When I was talking to my roommates about_ you _. When I was with_ you _. When I was thinking about_ you _._ And I don’t have the nerve to tell him any of that. Instead I just let my voice trail off and keep my eyes trained down to the floor.  

                He seems to understand. “As I said, I would not focus on them. You are working yourself much too hard. The stress is clearly getting to you.” I frown as he says it. The words sound so unnatural out of his mouth. He’s a terrible liar. He seems to notice, but makes no effort to correct himself. I turn to go. “Tori. Thank you for entrusting me with this information.”

                “Well, I trust you,” I start to say, but for some reason my mouth has gone dry and I have trouble getting the words out. He looks away, and for some reason I feel like we’re having an entirely different conversation.

                “Is there anything-?” he asks suddenly, looking back up at me. “Something you do, that makes this go away?”

                “I usually focus on something else,” I shrug. “Usually by-“ I think back to when I was in my dorm room and my tongue immediately rushes to the inside of cheek where I had bit down before. It’s still sore, and if I’m not mistaken, a little bloody, but it doesn’t hurt much. “-distracting myself, focusing on something physical. I don’t know.”

                “Then I would recommend grounding yourself,” he says. “Typically when people are _stressed_ , they usually find an object that they can squeeze or focus on in order to keep themselves in the present.”

                “That sounds like a good idea,” I say. It doesn’t get to the root of the problem, but it’s an idea on how to at least control myself until I can figure out why it’s happening. “Thank you, sir.”

                “Again, I must caution you not to dwell on these thoughts,” he says. “When you feel them coming, ground yourself, and come directly to me as soon as you can. You know where I live now.”

                The concern spreads to his eyes, and that’s how I know that it’s genuine, but it does nothing to erase my shock nonetheless. “Now, run along, and thank you for the gift.”

                I smile at him, and want to say something more, but decide against it. I need to think about this more by myself. First he says it’s just stress, that I shouldn’t dwell on it, but then he tells me to come running to him whenever it happens? Something is obviously going on, and he won’t say. But why?

I open the door and stop, turning to him seriously. “You would tell me, if there was something wrong with me, right?”

                “Run along,” he repeats quietly, and I can feel the smile slipping from my lips as I shut the door behind me.

\---

                Professor Grabiner watched as she left with a myriad of emotions, the chief among them a mixture of disappointment and confusion. When she had arrived at his door, he had at first dared to hope that she had remembered him, but no, it was just Professor Potsdam no doubt orchestrating some silly scheme to force him to come to terms with how much he cared for the girl. And it had almost worked too. At first when she started to speak, he thought she might have remembered something important. The marriage? A kiss? But no, instead it was just a piece of simple conversation. However, one line of a conversation could lead to her remembering a dialogue, which could lead her to remembering the whole conversation, which would lead to her remembering another, and another…

                But that was the thing. It appeared that her memory was slowly coming back to her in bits and pieces. Should that be happening? Not much was known about memory charms, especially after one’s memory was wiped. Magic and science did not mix, and so they didn’t really know if anyone suffered any long term brain damage from having their memories shielded for an extended period of time. There was only what had already been observed, and speculation. Memory shields themselves were tricky business, as breaking one usually depended on some knowledge of the person who cast it. Whoever cast hers must not have known very advanced magic, for she seemed to be strong enough to be breaking through it of her own accord. That was dangerous in itself though; if she remembered too much at one time, or if she trapped herself trying to figure out exactly what she was seeing, it was possible that she wouldn’t be able to wake up.

                He walked back over to the book on his desk and tapped his fingertips over the cover. Professor Potsdam had charmed the thing well, from the binding to the cover to the language. The gift was indeed intended for him, although he could clearly see why she didn’t want Tori to know what it was. He tapped the book twice to get rid of the glamor, and then opened the cover and extracted a small card that was left inside.

                _She’s starting to remember. It’s not much, mostly fragments here and there, but she is starting to pick up impressions, and it’s only a matter of time before she links them to you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s told you already, but it’s important if you are to help her that you can link things clearly for her. This should aid with that. I managed to recover it as soon as we noticed the memory loss and I believe she hasn’t noticed it missing yet. I understand if you have reservations about reading it, but the only way we can help her is if we know what she’s lost. I’m sure she’ll forgive you, eventually._

He raised his eyebrows at that last comment and snorted to himself as he put the card down and carried the book to his bed. He sat down at the very edge, holding the book in both hands. Carefully, he turned to the first page and found that it was neatly dated in the top right-hand corner. He quickly flipped through several pages and found that they were all dated. That would most definitely make things easier.

                He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to read this. This was quite clearly private, and yet Potsdam had obviously gone through it. He tried making a list of pros and cons in his head, but it didn’t work. He didn’t want to disturb her privacy, but something in here could prove useful to saving her life. And, he had to admit, that he was curious to read what she had written about him. It was that curiosity that eventually won over.

                Casting a nervous glance around the room, he opened to the first page and began to read:

                _Sunday, September 1 – Move In Day_

_Today I arrived at Iris Academy and met my new roommates, Ellen and Virginia. I also accidently bumped into a nasty teacher, Professor Grabiner, and he gave me ten demerits for it. So mean!_

                He chuckles at that and reads on.

_I told Virginia about it, and she says that everyone calls him Grabby because he hates everyone. Her brother told her that he’s a monster…I hope that’s not true! If he was really as bad as she says, they wouldn’t let him be teaching freshmen, surely? Anyway, Virginia has two brothers here at school, both in Wolf Hall. The older one is William and he’s really cool. The younger one is Donald. He’s the same year as us and he teases Virginia a lot……_


	19. Chapter 19

                The week passes by with thankfully no episodes, and so I take Professor Grabiner’s advice and try not to dwell on it. I have bigger things to worry about at the moment, anyway. I’m glad that I was able to give Professor Grabiner at least some sort of Secret Santa present, because, just like last year, another snow storm struck and everyone was back making cards for each other in the gymnasium. I expected to get a card from Virginia, or Ellen, or even Donald, but no one made a card for me. Virginia and Ellen got each other, and Donald got another boy in Wolf Hall. I briefly entertained the idea that Professor Grabiner was my Secret Santa, in which case I assured myself that I wasn’t going to receive anything. Not that I minded, really. I didn’t really need a card, and I couldn’t think of anything Professor Grabiner could get for me that I would actually want.

                Virginia did tease me about the possibility that he was my Secret Santa, but it still didn’t bother me. What did bother me, though, was how many questions they were asking about what I had gotten Professor Grabiner. I told them that Professor Potsdam had given me some lofty volume in another language to give to him, and that he had been civil and merely grunted a “thank you” before telling me to get out. Yes, it was a lie, but unlike the ones Professor Grabiner seemed to be fond of telling, it was a believable one at the very least.

                I wasn’t quite sure exactly why, but it had been getting harder and harder to talk to my roommates recently. It felt like I was conflicted, like I was one person split into two parts. While I wanted to talk to them about the weird things that were going on, like what was happening to me and the weird things I was noticing around me, the more I seemed determined to keep them secret. It felt like I wanted to keep these things inside, like they were a Secret Santa from me to myself, to treasure and protect, and I didn’t want someone else coming along and roughing it up, asking too many questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Maybe that was why I felt comfortable opening up to Professor Grabiner: I knew he wouldn’t make a fuss over me. He either knew that I would be able to handle it myself, or he would step in and right the whole thing entirely if that was what needed to be done. I wasn’t quite sure where my sudden confidence in him came from, but it was there nonetheless.

                Unfortunately, the snow storm brought on more worries for me besides just Secret Santa gifts. The following day, I received a letter from my parents saying that although they hoped that they could come pick me up in time for Christmas, they weren’t sure if they would be able to with the bad weather and informed me that I might have to stay at Iris Academy over Christmas break.  As childish as it sounds, I ripped up the letter. I didn’t want to be stuck here over Christmas break. I wanted a _break_ , not just from classes, but from all the weirdness that seemed to surround me lately. I wanted to get away from this place and clear my head for a few weeks in relative normalcy. I knew I could always ask Virginia if I could accompany her and Ellen to her house over break, but I don’t even mention the letter to them, and let them believe that I am going home for break as planned. Somehow, just the thought of being surrounded by another loving family on the holidays, especially a magical one, will only make me miss my parents more. So I wish for the best and say nothing.

                I write back to my parents and ask them to keep me posted. I tell them that I really hope that I can come home, trying not to sound as desperate as I feel but making it clear that I do _not_ want to be stuck here alone at Iris over the holidays. But on Friday, with no word from them all week, I shuffle down to the assembly with everyone else so Professor Potsdam can do the annual Christmas blessing.

                “Now,” she says at the end of her usual speech about staying safe and not telling anyone about magic over the holidays. “Think of those that you care about. Think of a person that matters to you. If the person you choose is thinking of you as well, you will feel that connection, that affection will be shared. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

                I close my eyes and try to focus. I want to think about my parents, try to will them to come get me, but they’re non-magical and wouldn’t receive it anyway. So instead I just let my mind float to where it wants to go, and for some reason I find myself blushing as I think about Professor Grabiner. I mean, it wasn’t all that strange to be thinking about him. After all, everything that had been happening recently seemed to be centered around him. It was like we had this _connection_ that I just couldn’t place…

                Suddenly, so faint I could barely be sure I heard it, I hear his soft chuckle. It sounds almost sad though. Immediately, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. _Is he reading my thoughts? Right now?_

                “ _Professor?”_ I ask nervously, shouting it out to the vastness of my conscious. Then, more boldly, _“Hieronymous?”_ I feel a prick suddenly, just underneath my sternum, and suddenly I find it difficult to draw in a breath. My cheeks feel hot, and it’s almost as though I can feel someone else’s hot breath on my face-

                I jerk my head up and realize people are getting up all around me. I stand up too quickly, almost losing my balance, but luckily a hand on my forearm steadies me. “Hey you.”

                “Ha, thanks Tommy,” I say quickly as I reclaim my arm. I’m still reeling with sensation. The prick, the trouble breathing, the hot breath on my face like someone was standing way too close…that definitely did _not_ feel like Hieronymous. Where did it come from, or rather, who did it come from?

                I’m suddenly aware that Tommy has been talking, but I have no idea what he’s been saying. “Sorry, what?”

                He grins up at me. “You can be so spacy sometimes,” he says teasingly. “I was just saying that it was cool, you know? Hearing you, inside my head.”

                “Hearing me?” I echo blankly. Wait, had that been his laugh that I heard? Or had he been that last sensation? It couldn’t have been the last one, it felt almost threatening…maybe it was someone playing a joke on me?

                “You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” he asks.

                 “Of course,” I say dismissively. “Who else would I be thinking about?” But even as the words leave my mouth, it feels like the wrong thing to say. In fact, it almost surprises me how upset I am at myself for saying it. Of course I couldn’t come right out and tell him that I was thinking about Professor Grabiner, but lying about it seemed insulting to him all the same. I decide to change the subject. “So are you excited to go home for Christmas?”

                “Oh yeah,” Thomas says. “My two brothers are still young yet, so they haven’t made The Choice, and I obviously can’t tell them anything about it, but they’re going to be really excited to see me all the same. They’ve been asking so many questions about school and what life is like living away from home and I have to lie or reinvent stories to make it seem like they can happen to non-magical people so sometimes it’s hard to keep track of who I’ve told what to but…”

                The talk about lying and reinventing stories only makes me think of my own parents, and I stop listening. We walk around the trails like that for a while, him talking about his family, and me, pretending to listen. We walk around until he has to pack, and then I go alone by myself to the library while I wait for my roommates to finish packing. I can always tell them that my parents are coming to pick me up tomorrow morning, but I don’t feel like lying to them right now. It would just be easier not to have to tell them anything. So, instead, I make my way up to the library where I see Minnie dropping a few things off. She looks like she’s just about ready to leave, and so I stop directly in front of her, essentially blocking her path.

                “Hey Minnie,” I say, keeping my voice as casual as possible. “What’s up? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

                “Oh, hi Tori,” she says. She’s smiling, but there’s something in the way she quickly pulls her eyes away from me that rouses my suspicion instantly. “How have you been?”

                “Good,” I say. “I’ve had a lot of free time on my hands recently, you know, because I didn’t have to help out with the Thanksgiving tribute.”

                “Oh.” She gives off a little laugh and shuffles uncomfortably. _Did she honestly not expect me to find out about that?_ “We had more than enough volunteers. I tried to find you to see if you wanted to volunteer for a shift, but it filled up before I found you.”

                “Pity that,” I say. Her face is almost parallel to the floor now. _Why is she so determined not to look at me?_ “So why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

                “Going on?” she asks blankly, looking up at me. A flash of genuine confusion skirts across her features and for a moment I wonder if she really doesn’t know anything.

                “You’ve been avoiding me,” I say.

                “I’ve been busy,” she corrects me. “But I should probably get going. My parents should be here to pick me up any time now.” She starts to walk away from me but I grab her arm.

                “Minnie, tell me-“

                “No!” She cries out, and I feel a burning sensation in my hand, causing me to release her. “No, I can’t talk to you, Tori. Leave me alone.” She spins around and runs out of the library, books clutched to her chest.

                I’m thankful the library is empty so no one else saw that, but as I watch the library doors swing shut behind her, the feeling is quickly replaced with confusion. And paranoia. And suspicion. What was happening to me and why would no one tell me what was going on? What would I have to do to get answers?


	20. Chapter 20

                I sit in the library and try to preoccupy myself with some teen magazines until I’m sure my roommates have left, but I can’t focus. The articles are all about the newest teen celebrities from the newest TV shows, or movies, or latest pop albums, all things that we chose to give up when we went to Iris. Honestly, I didn’t mind giving up television or movies that much, but sometimes I really, really missed some of my favorite albums from back at home. And I could be there listening to them too, if only my parents would come pick me up.

                Eventually I decide it’s safe to venture downstairs and I don’t encounter anyone in the halls as I make my way back toward my room. The dorms appear to be entirely empty, except for me. Sighing loudly to myself, I decide to take a hot shower before I head back to my room and snuggle under the covers. It was still late afternoon, too early for bed, but there was nothing for me to really be awake for. Hopefully my parents would come pick me up this weekend, and then I could go home and leave this place behind me. Then I could actually be a normal teen and listen to music and play video games and not worry about why Minnie Cochran seemed downright scared of me only a few hours ago. I place two fingers on my forehead to focus and use a sleep spell to knock myself out.

                Unfortunately, I am not particularly gifted with sleep spells, as they never seem to actually last as long as I want them too. It’s still dark when my eyelids fly open, and I roll over and pick up my watch to find that it’s almost exactly three in the morning. I lay my head back down on the pillow and shut my eyes, but I can immediately tell it’s not going to do any good. The sleep spell has completely worn off and I’m now as wide awake as ever.

                I swing my legs out of bed, feeling the cold current of air being swept into the room from underneath the doorway. I sigh and pull my blanket further around me. What to do now? Read? I don’t think I’d be able to focus. Instead I decide to just get dressed and head down to the mail room early. I slip on my robe and my warmest fuzzy socks and quietly make my way down to the mail room. The dorms are quiet, quieter than they usually are anyway, and I can only hope that my parents have sent me a letter saying they’ll be picking me up this weekend. Otherwise, it’s going to be extremely lonely spending break all by myself.

                As I head inside, I can see the mail hasn’t been delivered yet. I pace around the room a few times before I curl up on a couch in the far corner of the room, wrapping my robes around me. There’s a large window overlooking the quad against one wall, and the cold is having no problem pressing itself through. It’s making me sleepy very quickly, and it’s not long until I adjust my arm underneath my head to make a makeshift pillow as I drift back off to sleep.

                Sometime later, I’m awakened to the sensation of someone gently brushing the bangs off my forehead. It feels nice, comforting. I don’t stir, but I can feel as if someone is trailing the backs of their fingers along my cheek. I want to look up but I’m afraid if I do the sensation will stop and so I wait, wait as the sensation drifts from my cheek to my hair. I can’t be sure if someone is actually stroking my hair or if it’s just a dream, but either way, I keep my eyes closed and snuggle into it, letting a small smile creep over my face.

                The next time I open my eyes, the first thing I see is large snowflakes hitting themselves against the window pane. If anything, the weather looks like it’s only gotten worse. I groan sleepily and stretch out my neck from side to side before I stretch my arms out in front of me. I rub at my eyes and blink into the bright overhead lights until my eyes adjust to see Professor Grabiner sitting at the sorting table a few feet away from me, reading a book. He doesn’t look at me, but I can tell that he’s aware that I’m up by the way he seems to be staring through the book instead of reading it.

                “Sir?” I ask groggily.

                “Sleeping in here so I can’t punish you for being late?” he asks, still not looking at me.

                I snort. “No, I just, I don’t know. Woke up early, I guess.” I stretch my neck out from side to side again as I adjust myself on the couch. I check my watch. It’s just after 9 AM. _Whoops_. “So am I still late?”

                “Well considering you were _here_ at five, I doubt arguing semantics with you would be a good use of either of our time,” he says. “And, considering most of the students are away on holiday, I didn’t expect you to be here anyway.”

                “Oh.” I look down to the floor. “Um, right. My parents probably aren’t coming for me, with the bad weather and all.”

                “Are you sure?” he asks. He gets up and hands me an envelope that had been sitting next to him on the table.

                As he gets up, I realize that he is not wearing his signature cloak and, as I struggle to free myself from the makeshift blanket around my hands, I realize that it’s draped over me. He doesn’t say anything about it, and I decide not to comment on it just yet. I rip open the corner of the envelope and then pull it open with one finger as I extract the letter. Except it’s not a letter. It’s just a note.

                _Sorry we couldn’t come get you this year. Have a great holiday!!_

That was it.

                That was all that was written.

                I turn the card over in my hands, flipping it from front to back, daring there to be more. But my parents are non-magical. It’s not charmed. There’s no secret message written. That’s just literally all that’s there.

                I slump back into the couch and stare at my mother’s familiar handwriting, trying to process the letter, trying to explain it to myself rationally, but no rational thoughts come. Instead, there’s only feelings, feelings of distrust and betrayal and anger, and a powerful wave of nausea that hits me in the stomach like a wave.

                “Yeah,” I say bitterly. “I’m sure.”

                He raises an eyebrow, his eyes still trained down towards his book, and that’s when another wave of emotions hits me all at once. Suddenly it’s all too much for me, the back-and-forth attitude I’ve had with Grabby for the past few months, spinning wildly between pure hatred and titillating confusion, Minnie’s refusal to talk to me, Thomas’ over-friendliness, the fact that I couldn’t seem to trust Virginia or Ellen or even Donald with anything…my parents pretty much just abandoning me here…

                For a second I just sit there, fuming, until I’m vaguely aware that his cape actually _smells_ like him, of old books and parchment and something else I can’t quite place and instead of being calmed, I’m incensed. It’s too familiar, it’s too comfortable, it’s too _wrong_ , all of it’s wrong. Grabby was a mean person. He hated everyone. So why was he being so nice to me? What had happened this morning? He came in to check the mail, saw me shivering in here and decided to just put his cape over me and stay with me until I woke up? That doesn’t sound like _anything_ Grabby would ever do for _anyone._ Was it because I had opened up to him that day? Was he really concerned about me? None of this made any sense. 

                The thoughts are starting to make my head spin and I get up, tossing his cape aside as I crumble up the letter and envelope into a ball and throw it into the fire Grabby had apparently lit while I was sleeping. I don’t turn around to see his reaction. Instead, I storm out of the room. I think I hear him call my name behind me, but I don’t care. I have nothing to say to him, and he can’t possibly have anything to say to me that I want to hear right now. I don’t turn around. I don’t want to go back to my dorm room, it’s too cold to go outside, and so for some reason I make my way back to the library.

                It’s a small library, and I check between all the shelves to make sure that no one else is there, but it’s abandoned. All of the usual library goers had gone home for break. There is a big glass wall with windows overlooking the other side of the quad, and I stare out at the cold, snowy landscape in front of me. My attention is pulled upwards, to one of the high window sills. It is pretty thick, and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to sit up there and read, gazing out at the quad beneath me. I take quick glance behind me, but no one’s around. _Now’s a good a time as any._

                Using one of the stepstools, I quickly clamber up to the top of a book shelf, pulling myself into a kneeling position on top of it. They are quite sturdy, bolted to the floor, and I take a moment to realize that I am actually _kneeling_ on the top of a _bookshelf_ as I inch my way towards the edge, towards the window. It’s not a far jump by any means, but I don’t want to hit the window with too much force and bounce backwards off the sill, so I rock back and forth on my heels a few times before I actually make the jump. I make sure to push myself forwards as I fall, pushing my weight into the window, and I don’t fall back. Instead, I carefully lower myself into a seated position, finding there was just enough room for me to stretch out my legs.

                I glance down beneath me. I have got to be at least seven feet up, just taller than all of the book shelves around me. Idly I look down to see the stepstool, and almost wonder if it would have been easier to just pull up a chair and jump up to the ledge and pull myself up. I shrug and let the side of my face rest against the cold glass. It actually feels nice. Someone is still running the heat in the library, and it feels unusually warm in here. I look outside the window to see the snow piling up. It really does look like a pretty bad snowstorm, and I could understand why my parents didn’t want to make the drive, but I still couldn’t help but feel upset about it. They had given me a note. Not a letter, not a card, but a note. They couldn’t have said anything else? They couldn’t have told me that they would miss me? They couldn’t have asked me to write to them over holidays? They couldn’t have told me that it wouldn’t be the same without me? Heck, they didn’t even sign it.

                I finally realize that I had jumped up here without bringing a book with me, but I don’t feel like jumping down just now. Instead, I cross my arms across my chest and I sit, and I think, and I fume, and I sulk in my little corner of the library, high up above the bookshelves. For some reason, it makes me feel at least a little bit better. Why was Grabiner acting so nice to me? Why was Minnie afraid of me? I didn’t have the answers to any of these questions, and I wouldn’t get them sitting here, but it felt good to at least let myself be overwhelmed for a moment where no one else could see me. I don’t cry, I don’t yell or huff, I just sit and let the emotions flow through me, let myself feel as shitty as I want to feel. For some reason, it’s oddly cathartic.

                I don’t know how long it is until I eventually feel a cramp in my neck and I have to sit up and stretch. I dangle my legs over the edge slowly, trying to shake out the pins and needles. I twist around and place my fingers squarely on the ledge and then drop myself down. The tips of my toes won’t quite make the floor, and so I have no choice but to let go of the ledge and drop the remaining distance. I land squarely on the balls of my feet, and put my arms out by my sides just in case. I don’t fall, and I let out a little sigh of relief. _Not too bad._

                I take stock of myself. My neck is sore, my lower back hurts from being hunched over against the wall, and I’m starting to develop a headache from not eating all day. Deciding on a hot shower first, I head back to my dorm room, only to step on a tiny note that was slipped under the door. Written in the unmistakable cursive that could only be his:

                _Tori, please come see me at the earliest opportunity._

                It’s written in the top left of the card, leaving most of the space blank. I’m not quite sure if he meant to write more and simply decided not to, or if he had written more and then erased it. I tap the card, trying to figure out if it’s cloaked for my-eyes-only but, much like my parent’s note this morning, that’s all that’s there.

                I sigh and shake out my hair in the mirror. I look ridiculously tired, but I might as well head over now and see what he wants.

                It’s cold outside, and as I stomp through the snow in my sneakers, I realize that I should probably have a pair of snow boots for the winter months. Unfortunately, the snow storm snuck up quickly, and none of the buses would be running back to the mall until after break, so I was stuck dealing with what I had.  

                I march my way sleepily up to Professor Grabiner’s room, knocking on the door. It’s really cold and dark outside. I’m not quite sure what time it is, but no one seems to be around. Not that that should be a surprise anyway. I knew I probably wasn’t the only student who stayed behind for break, but it at least seemed like it. I knock on the door again and stifle a yawn.

“What-?”

                Professor Grabiner is standing in the open doorway in pajama pants, no shirt. I shift my eyes quickly down his front, from his broad shoulders down to his…I jerk my eyes back up at his face quickly. “Hi.” I am aware that I am squeaking.

                “What are you doing here?” he asks, and I shudder, either from the weight of his stare or the cold.

                “Your note?” I ask. “You told me to see you.”

                He closes his eyes as a look of frustration crosses his face. “Yes, I said-“

                “-at the earliest opportunity.” I hold out his card for him to read it.

                “Yes, but do you have any idea what time it is?” he asks in a cold, angry tone.

                “No,” I say slowly.

                “It’s half past midnight.”

                “Oh,” I feel color creeping into my cheeks. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I-I didn’t realize. I’ll just…head back then.”

                “Oh silly girl,” he sighs, wiping his face with one hand. “You’re here now. Come in.”

                I’m surprised that ‘silly’ was his first choice of words, considering how many times he’s called me ‘stupid,’ but I try not to let it show as I make my way awkwardly past him, fixated on the way his pajama pants are hanging from his hips. I tilt my head to the side. He is…hot, not in a super-muscly way, but he is definitely more toned than he looks. The robes did a decent job of hiding it, but-

                “Let me go put a shirt on,” he sighs, heading for his dresser. “Before you start drooling.”              

My jaw drops, and I quickly screw up my face in response. _Was he implying-?_ “Sorry, it’s just not every day you see such a convincing glamour.”  

                He shoots a dirty look back my way, and I can only manage a cheeky grin in response. The playful ribbing, why did it seem to come so naturally?

                “So what was so urgent you needed to see me about?” he asks. The white cotton t-shirt he put on clings around his shoulders, and in a way, it almost makes him hotter. I look away.

                “Well, I got your note, you said you wanted to see me,” I say.

                “I wanted to give you your holiday present,” he said. “But I thought it could at least wait until morning hours.”

                “Well, now that I’m here,” I shrug. “You can give it to me now.”

                He sighs. “Very well, close your eyes.” I stare at him dubiously for a moment before I do what I’m told and close my eyes. I’m grin and bite my lip, feeling hyper-aware of everything around me, my upper teeth biting into the corner of my chapped lip, the bit of wet hair from the snow clinging to the back of my neck, my breathing, which seems to get faster and faster as-

                Suddenly I feel him cup the side of my cheek and guide my lips to his own. I let out an involuntary moan as I kiss him back, my lips pulling at his bottom one. He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against mine, our breathing suddenly labored with desire. “Should I continue?”

                “Yes,” I breathe. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him to me. I run one hand through his hair and the other along his back while he wraps his arms around me, his palm flat against my lower back with one hand, the other holding my neck in place, keeping me from breaking the kiss.

                I push against him and the kiss deepens as he pushes me over to the bed, pushing me down. I wriggle backwards as he crawls on top of me, propping himself up with one elbow and running his hand over my hair as he kisses me again. “You don’t need this,” he says as he puts his hand against my chest. At first I’m not sure what he’s doing, but suddenly my jacket and shirt disappears, and I’m left in only my bra. I gasp at the rush of cold air against my skin and put my hand on his chest, trying to do the same. It doesn’t work.

                “Silly girl.” He smirks as he pulls his shirt over his head, and somehow it’s even hotter that way. He kisses me again, his chest flush against mine, warming my body with his own. I buck my hips up against his, embracing the heat that is pooling in my core. I’m panting now, hot with desire, and he seems to realize this, as he abandons my lips and pulls at my earlobe with his teeth. I gasp and my eyelids flutter as he places feather-light kisses down my cheek, down my neck, all the while running the length of my body with his free hand.  

                I grab at the pillows near my head as I groan, arching my back off the bed as he kisses down my front, his warm lips singing against my frozen skin. He is kissing me more slowly now, nearing my belly button, and I suddenly realize what he’s about to do. Slowly he slides my pants off, leaving me in nothing but my panties, while I twist with need beneath him.

                “Do you want me to?” he asks.

                “Yes, fuck, yes.” I buck my hips again in agitation. I need him to be touching me, kissing me, anything, anywhere, so long as I can feel him. Suddenly I’m aware that my panties are gone and I think I can just feel the tip of his tongue as his hot breath descends on me…

                I let out a groan and throw my head against the pillows. “ _Hieronymous_ ,” I pant. The word is a mouthful but I drip each syllable out of my mouth. “Hier-o-ny-mous. Hieronymous, Hieronymous.” I repeat it faster and faster, almost like a chant. I can feel myself building, I can feel it pooling in my core and suddenly I feel my whole body tighten up like a coil and I want to let go _just let go-_

                “TORI!”

                I jerk my eyes open and slip headfirst off the library’s window ledge.


	21. Chapter 21

                I suck air into my lungs and sit up with a start. I expect to hit the cold, tile floor but for some reason I’m tucked into my own bed instead. I glance around the room anxiously but see nothing. There’s no one there, nothing out of place. I wipe my damp bangs off my forehead to find that I’m dripping with sweat. _Didn’t I just fall off the library window ledge? How did I get here?_

Once my breathing returns to a more steady rhythm, I slide my legs out of the side of the bed and reach for my watch on my night stand. Sitting in front of it, propped up to make it easier to notice, is a small card.

                _Next time, I would highly dissuade you from taking a nap seven feet in the air. I was fortunately there in time to catch you, although it does seem that you hit your head. Please come see me when you recover so I can confirm that you have no lingering brain damage. –H_

I huff and stick the note in my diary for safekeeping. He was there to catch me, why-? Suddenly I grimace as I remember what I was dreaming about. Him shirtless, the kiss, the other kiss, the kissing, the moaning, the-

                I scramble out of bed and almost trip over my own feet as I try to get my socks on and put my shirt on at the same time. The last part of my dream I was chanting his name over and over again. _What if he heard that? What if I was talking in my sleep?_ My face turns scarlet and I hitch in a breath as I pull on warm clothes.

                I rush into the bathroom and quickly splash my face with hot water and comb through my thick hair with my fingers before I literally run across the quad, kicking up snow as I go. Once I’m outside his quarters, though, I have to stop. My face is stinging from the cold, my nose is running, and my cheeks are sore with windburn.

                I pause, hands on my knees, raking in a gasp of cold air that burns my lungs. The dream is still lingering in my head, the way I had been moaning his name…maybe seeing him wasn’t a good idea. Maybe seeing him never, ever again was a better one. Any emotions that I may have had about the dream itself were completely overshadowed by the fact that he may have heard me moaning his name in my sleep.

                I drag myself to his door and force myself to knock, quickly wiping my nose in the crook of my sleeve before he opens the door. Thankfully, he’s not shirtless. “Tori.”

                I don’t even notice that he called me by my first name. I’m suddenly overcome with a strong urge to feel what it would be like if I grabbed him and pressed my lips against his, right now. I can’t look at him. “I, um, thank you for, uh, saving me, catching me, whatever.” I suck in a breath, my eyes trained on the doorway next to his head. “I just stopped by to say thank you, and, uh, I’m alive, so uh. Yeah. Good news, I’m alive. Thanks again, bye.” I turn to go when he puts an arm out to stop me.

                “Here, come in, I have something for you.” He turns and walks back inside, and I look pleadingly out at the winter landscape as I reluctantly follow him inside.

                “Have something for me?” I ask hesitantly as he starts rummaging around inside a closet. I stand near the doorway, ready to run at a moment’s notice.

                “Well,” he says, returning seemingly empty-handed. “You got me a holiday present. I felt it would be discourteous to not do the same.”

                My dream rushes back to me and I can feel something stirring deep within me. Was that not a dream at all? Was that a premonition? Do witches get premonitions? My mind was racing a mile a minute, but I had to say something. “You didn’t have to.” My voice comes out too high-pitched, even to my own ears, and he looks at me oddly.

                I think I am blushing so hard my ears are red. I quickly realize that my face must also be red from the cold, concealing at least some of my embarrassment. “Just winded,” I tap my chest twice with my fist. “From the, um, cold.”

                He purses his lips and nods to himself as he makes his way towards me. He stops directly in front of me, and I’m starting to think that my dream really is going to come true when suddenly he holds up his hand and a dark blue stone drops down from a black corded string around his finger. “Turn around,” he says.

                _I have no idea what’s happening_. I can feel my heart drop into my stomach as I turn around slowly, and he brushes my hair to one side as he holds it around my neck. I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck as he seals the clasp, and then lets go. I feel the stone hit against my sternum, but it’s not as heavy as I expected. I turn back around to face him, slowly, and he takes a step back so that he’s not standing directly in my face.

                I turn it over in my hands. It’s a smooth stone, not perfectly round, not perfectly oval, but somewhere in between. “It’s-“ I skim over the word beautiful. “-really pretty.” I blush, and I can feel my ears going hot. _Did he just get me jewelry?_ It’s not a kiss, but the word ‘romantic’ _is_ dancing around my head.

“Is it magic?” I ask, looking up at him.

                “Remember when you said you were trying to keep yourself grounded?” he asks. I nod. “If you’re ever upset, or unsure, or unfocused, just hold onto the stone and think pleasant thoughts. That should help.”

                “Just think happy thoughts, huh?” I ask, raising my eyebrows as I turn it over in my fingers again. “It’s a really pretty color.”

                “It’s the same color as your eyes,” he says, and I can’t suppress the gasp that rises in my throat as I drop the stone back into place.

                “Or my hair,” I joke lightly. He forces a smile in acknowledgement, but there’s something else in his eyes.

                “I wouldn’t show that to anyone, by the way,” he offers. “You don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression if they were to find out that I gave that to you.”

                “Oh, right,” I nod my head quickly. “Um, thank you, sir. It’s really nice.”

                “A fair trade for the book you gave me,” he replies simply.

                “The secret coded book,” I smirk at him. “I saw your reading it again yesterday. Is it at least any good?”

                “Oh, it’s very _informative_ ,” he says, but there’s a laughter behind his words, something he’s not telling. Whatever it is, he seems happy about it, and I decide to leave things here between us. There’s no tension between us right now. Instead, it seems to have replaced itself with a nice sense of calm, and it’s oddly comforting. Right now I feel like I could sit here and talk about anything, but something else tells me that that’s probably not a good idea. Things are good between us, and I don’t want to spoil it by overstaying my welcome.

                “I should get going,” I say at length. “But I can’t thank you enough for this, sir, really.”

                He smiles at me and I turn to go, when something suddenly pulls me back. The real reason I came. I have to know. “Sir, why were you in the library?”

                “Returning a book,” he says simply. “The collection here isn’t as extensive as I would prefer but it is adequate, I suppose.”

                “How long were you in there for?” I ask. He doesn’t answer. “I just mean, I felt like I was having this really vivid dream and now I can’t remember what it’s about. Did I happen to say anything in my sleep?” I struggle to keep my face as straight and as innocent as possible.

                “Which time?” he asks, and I feel my jaw go slack.

                “Which-?” I echo hollowly.

                “Well I also caught you sleeping in the mail room,” he says matter-of-factly. “Why you think that couch was more comfortable than your own bed-“

                “I couldn’t sleep,” I say quickly. “But thank you for the, erm, blanket.”

                He smiles, and it reaches his eyes. “My pleasure.”

                “But, wait, then-“ I pause and wrinkle up my nose. “If you caught me sleeping in the library, how did I get back in my own bed?” He arches an eyebrow at me, and my cheeks flush. My entire face is bright red now, and I make no attempt to hide it. “Please just tell me you teleported me back to my room and didn’t carry me through the dorms like a child.”

                He smirks at that, and a little laugh escapes him. “Good day, Ms. Brown.”

                For some reason, this rubs me the wrong way. “I like it better when you call me Tori,” I say as I shut the door behind me. For some reason, I’m filled with giddy excitement. I tuck the stone carefully into my shirt, where it sits and hovers just above my heart. I carefully make my way back to the dorms, preferring the hard crunch of knee-deep snow over risking my neck on the ice-covered walkways and finally make it back to the safety and warmth of my room.  I strip off my jacket and climb onto my bed, sitting cross-legged and holding the little blue stone out in my hand.

                _If I’m ever upset…or unsure…_ I close my eyes and think about my parents. How they just left me here. This would be my first Christmas away from them, ever, and it hardly seemed like they cared. Maybe this is why so many wildseed children decide to separate from their parents after their second and third years. Maybe they just grow too far apart, the secrets and the lies become too difficult to keep, and it’s easier to just let go.

                I can feel a dull ache in my heart and I realize that I’ve made myself sad. Didn’t he say I was supposed to think _happy_ thoughts? I focus on how I felt when he gave it to me, the calm trust that seemed to pass between us, his soft smile when he-

                The stone pulses in my hand. I drop it quickly and it hits against my chest. _Did I really just feel that?_ Carefully, I pick up the stone again and clench it in my fist. The sensation’s not there. Had I really felt anything, or was it just my imagination?

                I close my eyes and again picture Hieronymous. The way his fingers slid across the back of my neck when he was putting it on me, his soft chuckle, the laughter in his eyes-

                I can feel it pulsing again, slowly, but it’s there. I keep my focus, focusing on Hieronymous because I literally can’t think of anything else that has made me as happy as he has in a while. I lie back and hold it in my fist over my chest and feel it beating, slow, but strong and steady…

                I focus on nothing else but the constant pulsing as a soothing calm washes over me, and I quickly drift off into a soothing sleep.

\---

                As soon as the door closed, Hieronymous had smiled to himself. The poor girl was so caught up in her own state of embarrassment that she had failed to notice his. Yes, it had been a rare stroke of luck: he was in the library purely on a whim when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her sleeping, head back against the wall, fingers twitching in her lap. Her bottom lip quivered and she stirred a little bit, and for a second he was sure she was going to wake up, but she didn’t.

                Against his better judgement, he locked the library door behind him and went beneath where she was sitting on the ledge. Entering people’s dreams was tricky business, but only if you hadn’t done it before. It was a rare skill to actually enter someone’s dream without waking them, or disturbing them, or tipping them off to your presence in some way, but given how accustomed she was to him, he doubted she would even notice the intrusion. Perhaps one of her dreams was actually a locked memory; that might give him some insight as to how to break the memory shield once and for all.

                So he closed his eyes and he channeled, murmuring under his breath.

                And he saw everything, from the first knock on the door, to the kiss, to the bed…It seemed Ms. Brown had a truly _interesting_ imagination. But as he watched her throw her head back and pant his name, he suddenly realized this was wrong. Here he was, snooping on her dreams, and although he was elated, no, ecstatic to find that she still wanted him as much as he wanted her (as wrong as that continued to be) he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t watch this. It wasn’t right.

                But he was too caught up in it now, and he wouldn’t be able to extract himself from the dream so easily. “ _TORI,”_ he shouted in an attempt to wake her, and that’s when she had tumbled off the ledge. She had already hit the floor by the time he had awakened himself from his stupor, and he had sighed, massaging his temple with one hand. _Fantastic. Now I’ve just killed the girl._

                But after a quick check of her pulse and a touch of green magic, he was pretty sure that she was going to be fine. And that was when he had carried her back to her room, put her to bed, and left her a note. He was about to go when she had mumbled his name in her sleep again. He rolled his eyes, but a smirk touched his lips as he turned around and bent down to place a kiss on her forehead.

                He smiled to himself at the memory and sat down at the end of his bed. He still had no way of knowing how to tell her that he was reading her diary when she finally snapped out of it, but that was the least of his concerns right now. He felt like he was starting to get to know her at least a little bit better, and something in one of her transcribed memories might be key to making her remember everything once and for all.

                Carefully, with a quick glance at the door to make sure she was really gone, he reached into his robes and pulled out an identical stone from around his own neck. Wrapping his fingers around the pendant, he held it to his lips and waited there, waiting for it to take hold. And suddenly there it was, a quick beat, slightly out of rhythm, pulsing quickly in his hand.

                _Probably still running around in the snow_ , he thought to himself, as he closed his eyes and listened to the quick pulse of her heartbeat.


	22. Chapter 22

                When I open my eyes, I realize that the stone Hieronymous had given me is still in my hand. I shake my head and laugh softly as I shake my hair loose and tuck the stone into the top of my tank top. I don’t know what the stone is, besides obviously magic of course, but I like it. I don’t know if it has any inherit green magic or any other healing properties to it, but I feel a lot better, not just physically, but mentally too. I feel happier, more clear-headed.

                I stand up and put on my clothes slowly, trying to think about what I’m going to do today. Everyone is gone: Virginia, Ellen, Donald, Tommy…I hesitate as I realize that I haven’t really spoken to or socialized with anyone else this year. I know Minnie, although she made her thoughts on me quite clear. I was good friends with a lot of the upper classmen last year, like William and Big Steve, but they had all graduated and moved on with their lives.

                I sigh and decide to head back up to the library, trying to figure out what to do with myself. There isn’t a soul in the hallways, nor do I hear the familiar signs of life around campus, which only increases my sense of loneliness. _Is this how Professor Grabiner feels all the time?_ It would make sense why he was so miserable and bitter all the time, although he did seem to prefer _my_ company…

                Suddenly I feel an itching sensation in the back of my head and I slump against the wall in the middle of the hallway. _Shit, not again._ I quickly fight with my robes to grab the stone and hold it to myself, focusing, focusing… _Pulse dammit pulse._

                And there it is again, although the pulsing was a little bit quicker right now than it had been before. It felt almost like a… _heartbeat_? I quickly drop the stone as the burning sensation in my brain begins to fade. A heartbeat? I bite my lip as I continue on my way towards the library, trying to puzzle this new mystery together. Yesterday when I was holding it, it was steady and slow, but now, if it really was a heartbeat, it wasn’t _racing_ but it was faster…

                _Well, duh._ I shake my head. How could I have been so stupid? It was probably my own heartbeat. Yesterday it was slower because I was sitting on my bed, relaxing. Right now I was stressed and anxious, so of course it would be faster. A stone that let me feel my own heartbeat; I stop and hold it up in front of my face. Kind of creepy, but it seemed to serve its purpose. I shrug and head into the library.

                There’s no one around, quite like yesterday, but there is a book that’s been left out on the table. I walk over to it and spin the book around so I can read the cover. Memory spells? Who’s here learning about memory spells? Isn’t that supposed to be generally forbidden magic? I shrug as I slip into a seat in the corner of the table. _Probably a senior that’s worried about not graduating or something_. I pull the book towards me and flip open to the table of contents. Nothing jumps out at me as particularly interesting, so I just turn to the first page and begin to read.

                As I read, I sit with my head in one hand and idly flip pages with the other. I’m so busy trying to piece through the lofty style of writing that I don’t even notice Professor Grabiner entering the library. “Well, don’t you seem to be engrossed in that book?”

                My head almost slips out of my palm as I glance up at him. _Is he teasing me?_ “No,” I say softly. “It’s just, I don’t know, too educational for me.”

                “I must say, I knew you were attentive to your studies, but I didn’t quite expect to find you in the library poring over textbooks over break,” he says.

                “Well,” I shrug. “No one else to hang out with.”

                He considers that for a moment. “Are you lonely?”

                I contemplate the question. “Probably no more than you usually are.”

                He seems a bit taken aback by that sentiment and I can hear him huff, “Oh very well,” before he sits down at the opposite side of the table from me, diagonally. I stare at him, confused. “I suppose I could read in here to keep you company.”

                “No, sir, you don’t have to-“

                “Silence,” he warns me in a scholarly tone, and I see him open up his book. “The reason I came here to read is because I may need some materials for reference.” I sigh and accept that he’s not going anywhere. I keep quiet and get back to reading.

                To be honest, it’s not that bad reading with Grabby here. Of course, I had immediately taken my feet off the chair opposite me and sat up a little straighter when he came in, but aside from that I didn’t really notice him as I poured over pages of memory charms. There weren’t any spells in there; it was purely just the academic study of the “philosophy and moral quandary” of memory charms, expressing that that kind of magic was generally forbidden by the general populace. I was just getting to the part about memory shields, and how it blocked only specific things from your memory but did not erase them, when I started to think about my parents.

                What would happen if I did decide to have them forget about me? Would the school simply wipe their memories or would they put up a shield? What would happen to me if I were to ever be expelled? Would they just take down the shield so I could go home and live normally with them again, or would my parents really have forgotten me entirely? And then who would I be without my memories? A blank shell, completely at the school’s mercy, to be placed and reconstructed as they saw fit?

                A shudder runs through me, and suddenly I don’t think I want to be learning about memory spells anymore. It’s just too creepy. Even if I did do something wrong to have my magic and memories taken from me, I had _earned_ my memories. They were mine, along with the feelings and emotions that came with them. I would never want anyone to wipe my memories, not of anything. They belonged to me, and no one had any right to take them from me. Iris Academy and Professor Potsdam _could_ , sure, but that didn’t make it any less wrong.

                I sigh inwardly. But I’m a wildseed. I wasn’t raised in this life or in this culture. Maybe people who were born to it and grew up magically saw things differently?

                I pause on the chapter introducing memory shields as I glance up at Professor Grabiner. I want to ask him questions about this, but would he even give me the answers? Obviously this magic was way above my skill level, but he did seem to take a liking to me recently. Maybe he would tell me. I glance in his direction out of the corner of my eye. He seems really engrossed in his book, and that’s when I realize that he’s still reading the same book I had given him for his Secret Santa present. Given that he seemed to go through one sizable tome in two days, this was strange to me. I glance at the pages to see if he’s almost done reading, only to realize that it looks like he’s still near the beginning of the book.

                “Are you rereading it?” I ask, unable to hold back my curiosity. He raises an eyebrow, still staring down at his book, and says nothing. “You’ve been reading that book for more than your usual book time-frame,” I explain childishly. “And you’re not even a quarter way through it, so now it looks to me like you’re rereading it.”

                “Perceptive,” he murmurs, still not looking up.

                I hesitate. He really doesn’t seem to want to talk to me right now. I’m never going to get answers at this rate. “Okay, fine,” I say at length. “Don’t tell me what it’s about, but I’m glad I could get you something so interesting that it holds your attention so well, that’s all.”

                I go back to my book, jaw set, pretending to be thoroughly engaged in whatever my own dusty volume had to say.  I can see him sigh and set down his book. “Yes, it is very interesting,” he says at last. “A little bit hard to swallow at first, I must admit, but the ending does get appreciatively…. _better_.”

                “Ending?” I repeat with surprise. “Wait, then it’s not a textbook?”

                He chuckles to himself. “Do textbooks not have endings?”

                “Well, I mean, I guess they do but-“ I shrug. I can’t quell the nagging voice in my head that tells me he’s lying to me again. Whatever he’s reading, it’s most definitely _not_ academic. “Why won’t you tell me what it is you’re reading? I gave it to you, I should know.”

                He tilts his head to the side, considering this. “Tell me what you’re reading and perhaps I will enlighten you.”

                I snort. That’s an easy trade, especially since I don’t really care all that much about what I’m reading. It certainly doesn’t mean as much to me as that book seems to mean to him. I flip back two or three pages to show the chapter title of memory shields and slide it across the table towards him. He pulls the book closer to him to see it, but when he reads the chapter title, his jaw seems to go slack. “Where did you get this?” he asks quietly.

                “It was just sitting on the table,” I shrug, not really looking at him. “I don’t know, I was bored so I just-“

                “Where did you get this?” he repeats. There’s something dark about his voice that forces me to meet his eyes. He doesn’t just look angry, he looks incensed.

                “It was just on the table.” I can feel my heart thumping in my chest, and the words come out like a whisper.

                “You really expect me to believe that?” he asks, and I stare at him. “This is serious magic,” he yells at me. I flinch involuntarily. “You had no right-“

                “It was just on the table,” I murmur but he’s not listening to me.

                “-to read this. This is far beyond your level of skill, and-“ he waves the book. “If you were _actually_ reading this, you would realize that this kind of magic is generally forbidden.”

                “No,“ I say quietly. “I just-“

                “Do you really think there’s no punishment for delving into forbidden magics?” he yells. “That just because I’m-“ he swallows his words. “That just because it’s _me_ that you think you could read this in front of my face and I wouldn’t punish you for it?”

                “No, please, I swear-“   

                “What were you looking for in here?”

                “Nothing, please, sir-“ My voice is shaky with tears that have yet to fall. _I mean, okay, I wasn’t sure if I was really_ supposed _to be reading this, but surely this is an overreaction?_

                I shut my eyes and flinch instinctively as he casts some sort of magic over me. I wait a few seconds, wait for him to throw me out the window or something, but nothing happens. When I dare to open my eyes again, he is glaring at me.

                “If I _ever_ catch you with this book again, you won’t have to worry about whatever magical punishment I would put you through, because you won’t be studying magic _at all_.”

                “No-“ I almost shout, but his voice is still louder than mine.

                “Get out,” he yells. Instead of struggling my way past the chairs, I teleport straight past him and to the doors, slamming them open as I stumble into them. Fortunately I hold my balance and race down the hall as fast as I can towards my room. Once inside, I bury my face in my knees, trying to catch my breath.

                _No he can’t expel me he wouldn’t expel me would he really expel me? All for looking at a book on forbidden magic? But is it really forbidden just to know how memory spells work? I just wanted to ask him…why is it so bad that I know? What’s in that book? Why did he get so mad at me? Is there something he doesn’t want me to know? Is there-?_

My head shoots up, and I realize I don’t have a lot of time. I need answers, and I also need to get to her before he does. I quickly slam the door shut behind me as I race towards Professor Potsdam’s office.


	23. Chapter 23

                “Come in, dearie,” Professor Potsdam calls sweetly as I knock on her office door. I almost want to pound it down, but I control myself. I open the door slowly, ignoring my shaking muscles, both from my anxiousness and the cold.

                “Don’t you look a fright?” she says comfortingly. “Sit down, sit down.” A spell of green magic washes over me and at least my muscles stop twitching. It does nothing, however, for my heart thumping in my chest. “Now tell me, what’s wrong? Get into a fight with Professor Grabiner again?”

                I am too thrown off by his threats of expulsion to question why she automatically assumed that I was having an issue with Professor Grabiner. “Not exactly,” I say. “He threatened to expel me for reading a book.”

                She laughs to herself. “For reading a book? Oh pumpkin, I don’t think-“

                “It was just sitting on the table,” I blurt out. “I didn’t go looking for it, it was just sitting on the table and I was bored and looking for something to do so I just started reading it and, and, please don’t take my magic.” It comes out in one long breath, and for a second I’m worried I’m going to burst into tears.

                “Now, now,” she says softly. “I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this. What book was it?”

                “A book on memory spells,” I tell her. “One of the senior books, I think.”

                She purses her lips. “You do know that those books are spelled, don’t you?”

                “Spelled?” I echo.

                “To prevent young witches and wizards from getting their hands on more magic than they can handle,” she says. “The books are spelled. You shouldn’t have been able to open it.”

                “I’m not lying,” I say quickly. “Please, test my memory, use empathy or something, I’m telling the truth.”

                She waits for me to finish my outburst before she speaks again. “Now, usually there _is_ punishment for students that look into spells beyond their comprehension, especially one as forbidden as memory magic-“

                “But there were no spells,” I blurt out. “It was all just, theory and philosophy…stuff. Like, about what they were.” I take a deep breath. “And why you shouldn’t use them.”

                She looks at me curiously. “I’ll ask Professor Grabiner to show me the book,” she says. “And we will decide any necessary punishments from there.”

                “Are you going to take my magic?” I ask, my voice wobbling uncertainly.

                She forces a smile. “No dear, although, you must understand, even if there were no spells, you still should not have been reading that book.” I open my mouth to argue, but she holds up her hand to stop me. “Even if it was just left out on the table, you shouldn’t have been able to even open it. I’m guessing one of the seniors unspelled it and left it there to lure some unsuspecting freshman into a bit of a prank and ensnared you instead.”

                “I guess,” I shrug.

                “Unless,” she sets her sights on me. “You _asked_ a senior to unspell it and leave it out for you.”

                “What?” I ask sharply. “No-“

                She chuckles to herself and is about to say something when I can’t take it anymore. _Why does no one believe me?_ “Test my memory, do something, I didn’t _ask_ anyone, I-“            

                “Silence,” she says, and suddenly I feel my voice catch in my throat. It’s almost painful, and I feel a burning sensation in my larynx as I try to get the rest of the words out, but they won’t come. She’s muted me. I can’t speak.  I sit there, holding my throat in one hand, and stare at her helplessly as she continues. “Now then. I can certainly understand why you want to learn about memory spells, but I wish you had come to me first.” I look at her curiously, raising my eyebrows dramatically to show my confusion. “Oh silly girl, this is about your parents, of course, isn’t it?”

                I blink at her stupidly. “Oh come now,” she says. “You left your parents to spend the summer with us, and sure, Thanksgiving break was short enough, but now that you’re back here for Christmas…” She lets her voice trail off. “You want me to make them forget, don’t you?”

                I hesitate as she waves her hand and unspells me so I can speak again. I hadn’t actually connected my parents to memory spells until I was already reading the book, but playing along may be my chance to get some answers. “I didn’t actually _learn_ much from the book,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “It was a bit hard to read, honestly. I just know that there’s memory wiping and memory shielding and there’s a difference.” She waits patiently for me to continue. “So shielding is like, blocking, right? Like it’s still there, they just can’t remember it?” She nods in confirmation. “So, like, does it…hurt? Could they break the shield and remember?”

                “Memory shields are quite controversial,” she explains. “One can break through them, if the spell is weak enough. But if it is shoddily constructed, one can get…trapped.”

                “Trapped?” I ask.

                “In a sort of bubble,” she explains. “The person will focus so hard on trying to retrieve the memory that they become stuck in it, and they can’t get out. They fall into a bit of a coma, if you will.”

                “Can’t you wake them up?” I ask. “With green magic?”

                She smiles bitterly. “Depends on the person. We all have our unique memories and attachments to them, and so everyone is affected differently. A great deal of the time, it depends on the caster. For example, if I was to cast a memory shield on you, I doubt you would ever be aware of it. But if someone else, someone less experienced, were to attempt it, there could be grave consequences for the recipient of the spell. Regardless, some minds are weaker than others. Some are stronger. It’s up to the person and the influences and triggers around them that can determine what they remember and what they don’t.” She sighs. “That is why memory magic is generally forbidden. Besides the obvious violations, it is very dangerous magic and a very tricky business overall.”

                “So you don’t run the risk of memory shields,” I say slowly. “With parents.”

                “No,” she confirms. “We find it’s just easier to wipe their memories entirely.”

                I feel sick to my stomach, but I press on. “So, _hypothetically_ , if I did get expelled and lose my magic, you wouldn’t send me back to them?”

                “They wouldn’t know who you were,” she explains. “And you wouldn’t know who they were.”

                “What would happen to me?” I ask softly.

                “Oh, come now,” she says. “I’m not going to expel you for looking at that book. Sometimes the best magic we use isn’t the magic we use at all. Why, I can tell by the look on your face that you weren’t looking for any sort of trouble-“

                “But what would happen to me?” I ask softly. “What about other people, like my old friends and stuff? Would they forget me too? How does that work?”

                “Oh, there’s a whole department for that,” she says dismissively. “Not really my area. But _you_ are, dear. And before I decide your punishment, I need to ask you a very important question.” I raise my eyebrows. “We gave you the Choice when you were thirteen years old, and then you chose magic. I’m asking you now, with all that you have seen and done and experienced here, would you ever want to go back to your old life?”

                I don’t even really need to think about it. “No, I wouldn’t.”

                “Then,” she looks at me. “Do you want me to wipe their memories of you, knowing you could never get them back? You would stay at the school full-time, until graduation of course. And there are quite a number of magical colleges that give substantial scholarships to wildseeds that have-“

                “Yes,” I say softly. My voice is hollow in my throat, and for some reason I think of Tommy. He has two younger brothers that love him, dote on him, would miss him. I just have my parents. All of my friends had moved on with their own lives, I didn’t really have any extended family….it’s just my parents. And they didn’t seem to miss me at all. There were reasons for that, I suspected, but I couldn’t think about that now. “Do it.”

                “Very well then,” she says. “Now that that’s settled, Hieronymous, please come in.” A brief sensation of shock registers through me – has he been listening this whole time? – but it’s quickly erased as I focus on the gold plaque in front of the desk that says _Professor Petunia Potsdam_. I stare at it, focusing on the engraving of the letters so I don’t have to look at him and let the enormity of my decision sweep over me. _What did I just do? What have I just done?_ I feel numb inside, a creeping sensation of coldness spreading through me. _Did I really just make my parents forget me?_

                “Let me see the book, please,” she says as he walks over and hands her the book. I don’t know if he looks at me, and I don’t look up. “Oh dear,” she gives a little laugh at herself. “When you said a book of memory spells, I thought it was something much more serious. Still, a book for seniors that you shouldn’t have been reading, but there’s nothing in here that you couldn’t have gleaned from our conversation just now.”

                I should be happy, I guess, but I don’t really register it. “My punishment, then?” The words barely trickle out of my throat.

                “Oh, no punishment,” she says. “As it stands, it looks like you’ve already got a lot on your mind as it is. We’ll take care of the necessary arrangements, but I must ask that you do not try to contact them in any way, or I can assure that strict disciplinary action _will_ be taken.”

                Don’t write to them. Sure thing. I hadn’t really received many letters from them recently. I mean, I had written them and told them as much as I could, but all of the letters had sounded fake and forced. I couldn’t tell them about how Grabby had pushed me up against the wall or that I had yelled at him, I couldn’t tell them about how I was feeling or the strange sensations in my head, heck, I couldn’t even tell them what I was learning in any of my classes. Even still, I had at least tried to write. Some of my letters had gotten responses, albeit short ones, but others didn’t. I had already been idly wondering if there was even a point in continuing to write to them when-

                Maybe this was best for everyone. I incline my head slowly in what could barely be called a nod to indicate that I had heard her.

                “Splendid,” she says, as if she’s totally immune to how I’m feeling right now. “Well then, you can go back to your room, Tori. And next time, if you see any books in the library that you’re not sure if you should be reading, please ask myself or one of the other teachers, all right?” Again, I incline my head in what could barely be called a nod. “Okay then, dear, you are dismissed. Have a lovely holiday.”

                I move my lips to utter “you too” but I’m not sure any sound comes out. I feel completely numb inside as I head back towards my room. I trudge through the snow, hating that the only sound I hear is the crunch of the snow under my feet, and the soft squish as the wet, cold snow permeates my socks. I make it back to my dorm and shut the door behind me, pulling off my clothes as slowly as possible until I’m just in my tank top and shorts. I crawl into my bed and lie there, pillow under my head, facing the wall, realizing the implications of what I had just done. I was an orphan now. I didn’t just lose my parents; I had gotten rid of them, thrown them away.

                _Or had they thrown me away? They obviously didn’t want to see me over Christmas; they had been writing to me less…maybe there just wasn’t room for me in their lives anymore._

A short while later I hear a knock on the door and I use a spell to determine that it’s Professor Grabiner. He continues to knock for the better part of an hour, calling my name, and asking me as kindly as possible to open the door and talk to him, but I don’t get up. I don’t open it. I don’t even answer him. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have had to make this decision yet. If it wasn’t for him yelling at me about the book, I would never have gone to Professor Potsdam and I never would have-

                No. It’s me. It’s my fault. I’m the one who read the book. I knew it was a senior book. I mean, I didn’t know that senior books were supposed to be spelled to prevent us from opening them, but I read it all the same. Any punishment that I have to endure is mine. I think about it. Maybe this _was_ my punishment, learning about memory spells in the cruelest way possible, which is why she decided not to give me any additional punishments. Sitting here in the dark, alone over Christmas holiday, was punishment enough.

                I pull the blue stone close to my chest and try to think of something happy, but I suddenly push it away. No, I don’t deserve to feel happy right now. I just lost my parents. It may have been by my own doing, but I need time to grieve. I need time to mourn, although at some point I’m not quite sure whether I feel sorrier for them or myself.

                That night, I consider going to Professor Potsdam in the morning and telling her that I changed my mind, that I don’t want to go through with it, but in the end, I decide against it. I think back to the summer when I had first left my parents to come back to Iris Academy because I missed my friends so much. But it wasn’t just my friends. I missed using magic, and something else too, something else that made me so incredibly happy...

                I can’t remember what it is specifically; it’s more of a feeling. Maybe it was just the overall general feeling of Iris, where I could really be myself, where I didn’t have to hide anything or lie to other people about who I am. Overall, I was happier here than I was at home.

                Maybe this really was for the best.

\---

                Professor Grabiner had seen Tori so happy that she couldn’t stop laughing, so angry that she was practically spitting venom, and crying so hard she couldn’t even breathe. He had seen her afraid, confused, shy, embarrassed, and frightened, but he had never seen her numb before. It was as if a light had gone out behind her eyes, and he couldn’t even look at her as she left the room. It was as if everything that made Tori herself had simply slipped out of her, leaving nothing but an empty shell behind. And it was all his fault.

                “That wasn’t necessary,” he said at length, when he was sure she was out of earshot. “She was under duress. It wasn’t fair to force her to go through with a decision like that.”

                “It would have to have been done eventually,” Potsdam sighs. “Wildseeds have to let go of their old lives eventually, and the sooner they do it the better. Besides, now it’ll give her something else to think about for a while.”

                Professor Grabiner frowned. He wasn’t totally blind to Professor Potsdam’s cold, analytical demeanor like the rest of the students, but every now and again it surprised even him. Pushing Tori to forget her own parents to distract her from possibly becoming aware of her own memory shield was cruel, to say the least, although maybe he just felt that way because he seemed to have developed a soft spot for Tori. He wasn’t quite sure.

                “It’s my fault,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have yelled at her. I was just concerned that if she had started to piece together too much too quickly-“

                “Are any other books missing from the library?” Potsdam asked. She was in no mood for one of Grabiner’s routine sulks. While he was focused on Tori, she was looking at the bigger picture.

                “No,” he said. “None of the others look touched, either. Just that one.”

                “Well, at least this narrows things down quite a bit,” Potsdam sighed. “Most of the students are away on break, and it would take someone more powerful than a freshman or a sophomore to disenchant one of the senior textbooks.”

                “So you believe it wasn’t a student, then?”

                “We will need to revisit the list of who stayed here during break,” she said. “Students, teachers, everyone, although it could very well possibly be someone from the outside. There are not that many people on school grounds right now; I’m not sure how easy it would be for someone to slip by unnoticed.”

                Professor Grabiner gritted his teeth in frustration. They were slowly narrowing down the list of suspects, but even that didn’t really do much good. Having even a handful of suspects was all but useless. There was only one person who had cast the memory charm on her, and only that one person could reverse it.

                “If anything, it means we know they were watching Tori,” she continued. “They knew she was staying here over break, and they knew her well enough to know that she would be heading up to the library and left the book out for her to find.”  

                Professor Grabiner closed his eyes as he remembered when he had caught Tori sleeping on the library window ledge. That had seemed dangerous in itself, but now he was beginning to realize how dangerous and exposed she was, sleeping out in the open like that. And she was completely unaware of the danger that could befall her.

                “Should I keep her out of the library, then?”

                Professor Potsdam pursed her lips, deep in thought. “Honestly, it might be better if she were to stay with you for a while, Hieronymous. Keep her safe, at least until there are more people back on campus. I believe her roommates will be back on the following Saturday.”

                He hesitated. Being around Tori increased the risk that she could remember too much, too fast. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

                “Well, someone is clearly watching her and aware of her whereabouts,” Potsdam said. “And they managed to sneak by under our noses. Tori didn’t seem to read far enough to link her condition to memory shields, and we’re lucky for that.” She pauses. “But this could be good for us. If they are bold enough to sneak in and leave her the book, then it means they are getting impatient, and it will only be a matter of time before they either get sloppy and show themselves, or come after Tori directly.”

                Professor Grabiner paused, realizing the implications of this. “So you plan to use the girl as bait?”

                Professor Potsdam rolled her eyes. “Do you have any other suggestions?” Professor Grabiner was silent. “I know you are in danger as well, Hieronymous, although I am starting to wonder which is causing you greater concern: the potential loss of your magic and your own memories, or Tori.”

                Professor Grabiner narrowed his eyes and made his voice as low as possible. “I have vowed to protect the girl for as long as we are forced to stay married, nothing more.” She sighed and cast a wave of white magic over him. He huffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. The appearance was not unlike a teenager who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “That was not necessary.”

                “Then perhaps it would do you well to remember not to lie to me,” Professor Potsdam said. “Please remember that I am the one who encouraged this union in the first place. I can see that you are becoming very attached to her, and while I wholeheartedly endorse it, I must remind you that both of your lives are at stake.”

                “As I am well aware,” he murmured under his breath.

                “So you will watch out for her over break?”

                Professor Grabiner sighed. “I’m not sure she wants to be around me right now, considering the events that have just transpired.”

                “Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Potsdam said cheerily. “I’m sure you will be able to think of something in order to win back her affections.”

                “The girl just lost her parents,” he reminded her. “In part because of my own actions. I don’t think this is something she will simply overlook with a small gesture of kindness.”

                “Then make it a big one,” Professor Potsdam said. “You’re her husband. Open up to her.”

                He sighed and shook his head as he turned on his heel and stalked out of her office. He was in no mood to take relationship advice from _Potsdam_ , of all people. He had been able to get Tori to forgive him more than a handful of times, but he had never hurt her so personally or permanently as this. He headed up the stairs into Horse Hall. He had no idea what he was going to say, but if he wanted any chance of repairing his relationship with her, it was going to have to be one damn good apology.


	24. Chapter 24

                I stay in my room for two days straight, refusing to go outside. I didn’t want to go to the library and risk getting in trouble again and it was too cold to go outside. Those were really my only two options, so I just stayed in my room, munching on granola bars to get me through the day. I wonder what my parents are doing right now. I wonder if they will actually make them forget me before Christmas, or if they’ll at least wait until after the holidays are over. I know it’s pointless to dwell over things that I’ll never know the answer to, but it gives me something to do until my roommates return from break and classes resume.

                Eventually, a knock on the door steals me from my thoughts. Figuring it’s Professor Grabiner again, I decide to ignore it, until I hear Professor Potsdam’s voice call through the door. “Oh sweetheart, are you in there?”

                “Coming,” I call quickly. I push myself out of bed and open the door to see her standing there, beaming at me.

                “Oh, don’t you look chipper this morning,” she says. I’m pretty sure chipper isn’t a word to describe someone that hasn’t showered in two days, but I wasn’t about to argue. I stare at her, waiting. “I actually have a special assignment for you today.”

                “Special assignment?” I echo.

                “Yes,” she says. “Today is Christmas!”

                “Oh.” My face falls. “So do I need to like, deliver presents to people who are staying or something?”

                “Oh, no no, nothing like that dear,” she says. “Actually, I would like you to spend the day with Hieronymous.”

                “What?” I ask flatly. I’ve been spending the past two days deciding that I never wanted to talk to him again. Sure I knew what happened wasn’t exactly his fault, but he still yelled at me, and I was getting tired of his mercurial moods.

                “It’s Christmas, you shouldn’t be alone on Christmas,” she says.

                “I can find somebody,” I offer.

                “I want you to spend it with Hieronymous,” she winks at me. “If you prefer, you can consider this your punishment.”

                “It’s better than losing my magic,” I mutter. “Okay, can I at least shower first?”

                “Go ahead,” she says. “Remember, we’re between classes right now. You don’t need to wear your robes all the time.”

                “Noted,” I say. She waves at me, and I disappear inside of my room. Spend the day with Grabby? Great, that will make my Christmas _loads_ better.

                After my shower, I throw on my jeans, a plain navy blue tee shirt, and a hoodie with my sneakers. It seemed simple, but honestly that was pretty much entirely what my wardrobe consisted of: sneakers, hoodies, jeans, and tee shirts. Considering I had to wear my robes every day for class and I usually just stayed in my pajamas on the weekend, I didn’t really need anything else. I walk across the quad, determined not to get there any faster than I have to. I trudge over to his room, knocking as lightly as possible in the hopes that he won’t even hear it.

                Regardless, he comes to the door anyway, and I look down, not meeting his eyes. Before he says anything, I offer the reason I’m here. “Professor Potsdam would like me to spend Christmas with you, sir.”

                He’s silent for a moment, and I realize my neck actually sort of hurts staring down like this. “And you came?” He sounds almost surprised.

                “It was supposed to be my punishment, but if you don’t want me to be here, I should go,” I say, quickly turning around.  

                He sighs. “No, come in.”

                “Really, I-“

                “If you go back to your room, she’ll know,” he says, and I sigh. He’s right. I close my eyes and reluctantly follow him inside.

                The room’s the same as it’s always been, and I wait for him to take a seat at his desk. “If you want, you can-“

                “I’ll sit here, thanks,” I say, walking across the room and taking a seat on the floor in front of the window. Unfortunately, I’m too low to see out of it, and I end up staring just beneath the window ledge.

                “You’ll have a better view if you sit on the bed,” he offers. I want to argue, but the floor is cold and so I quickly hop up onto the bed, staring despondently out the window. A flicker of recognition that this is where he _sleeps_ crosses through me, but I don’t want to dwell on it. At least focusing on how unhappy I am will distract me from any inappropriate thoughts, like how Professor Grabiner looks when he’s sleeping or the fact that this is where I was lying in that extremely inappropriate dream of mine.

                I don’t know how long I sit there, staring at the snowflakes brushing softly against the window, when he finally sighs and stands up. “Well, you might as well talk to me.”

                “There’s nothing to talk about,” I shrug.

                “It’s awfully hard to focus when you’re-“

                “I should leave then,” I say, but I make no move to get up.

                “Stay,” he says. There’s a hint of frustration in his voice. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

                “Hmm,” I mutter. I don’t really feel compelled to say much more than that, let alone argue with him. I don’t really want to talk to him at all, and I think he registers this, as it’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

                “My mother died when I was very young,” he says softly. “I don’t really remember her. As in most magical families, I wasn’t raised by my parents. My father lived in the Otherworld and I was raised by foster parents, if you will.”

                “I’m sorry,” I say softly. My voice sounds hollow. _Why is he telling me this? Is this supposed to be some sort of apology?_  “Are you close to them? Your foster parents, I mean?”

                “Their memories were wiped when I left for school,” he says. “They don’t remember who I am.”

                “Oh.” I look down at my hands, twisting them in my lap. I’m not quite sure what to say. “Do you miss them at all?”

                “No,” he replies, and I can tell by his tone that he really doesn’t. It must be easy being him, leaving people in the past and never looking back. I don’t know if he’s trying to relate to me by trying to tell me I’ll get over it eventually, but if it is, it’s not something I want to hear right now.

                When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “This is my fault,” he says. “Don’t think I don’t know that. If I hadn’t yelled at you about the book, you never would have-“

                “It’s not your fault,” I say seriously. “Don’t even think it. Professor Potsdam gave me a choice, and I made my decision.”

                “Tori-“

                “Have you ever done something that you know is your fault?” I ask him. “Like, something where it’s _really_ easy to blame it on another person, but you insist on making it your fault instead?”

                “An increasing amount, as of late,” he mutters. I ignore his tone and go on.

                “Then I think you know already,” I say as I continue to stare out the window. “That it’s actually _harder_ to blame someone else? I mean, I always thought it was easier, but it’s not. It’s easier to just blame myself because then I can just keep it all inside, if that makes any sense. I don’t know, if I blame myself then it means I don’t have to hate anyone else.”

                He sighs. “Is this your way of saying that you don’t hate me?”

                “Trying not to, at least,” I say as a smirk touches my lips. He chuckles at that, and I decide to press my luck. “Can I ask you something, actually, about the book?”

                He sighs. “You may ask, but I can’t guarantee I’ll answer.”

                “Fair enough,” I shrug. “I guess it’s not really something of a question, anyway. I mean, I didn’t obviously read the whole book, but I did read the first part that talked about memory wiping and obviously no one talks to people afterwards to know for sure…” I let my voice trail off. “But there was a part that talked about _impressions,_ feelings. That after you get your mind wiped, you can still feel things, like towards people.”

                He waits silently for me to continue. “So, even with your memory wiped, or I guess if you have a memory shield up to, you can still feel love towards another person without knowing why, right? Like, if I did go back to my parents – and I know, I know, I’m not _going_ to, but if I did go back to my parents, they would still _feel_ that they loved me. They would still feel something there. And they wouldn’t know they were my parents and they wouldn’t know _why_ they were feeling it because they wouldn’t remember anything about me, but they would still feel it, right?” I peek at him sheepishly.

                “I suppose,” he shrugs, but he looks uncomfortable.

                “I can’t imagine a worse form of torture,” I mope, slumping on the bed. “To have your memory wiped seems bad enough, but to remember that you love someone, but can’t remember who or why…that’s terrible.”

                He sighs and sits down next to me on the bed. We’re extremely close, but I don’t pull away. “About twelve years ago, I loved a girl named Violet,” he tells me. “She was everything to me, and-“ he sighs and looks away. “We went into the Otherworld together. She made a mistake in her warding, and suffice to say, we got kidnapped by goblins. Her spirit was devoured right in front of me.”

                I bite my lip and just listen. My heart is pumping with our proximity and with this new knowledge that he was entrusting me with. I focus hard on every word. “It would be easy to blame her, wouldn’t it? I mean, she screwed up the warding, but I should have checked it first. I can think of a million things I should have done to save her, but I don’t blame her for anything. It’s my fault she died.”

                Despair lingers in his voice and my heart pounds in my ears. Is this why he spends all of his time alone? Is he still mourning her? Over twelve years later? “I’m sorry,” I say softly. I force myself to look away from him as I feel a deep pain in my chest. I can’t watch him miss her, for some reason, it’s just too painful.

                 He shakes his head quickly. “It’s confusing,” he admits. I’m not quite sure what he’s confused about, but he continues. “Last year I was doing something, something that I admittedly shouldn’t have been doing, playing with magic a bit outside my control.” He sighs. “I was doing an experiment when I got knocked out. A…” he hesitates. “Foolish student decided to try to save me, almost dying in the process.”

                “There were consequences, for both of us, and at first all I could do was blame everyone around me,” he sighs. “For some reason, it wasn’t easy to admit that it was my fault. I wanted to blame the student. For some reason I thought it would be easier, I suppose, but it didn’t work.” He smiles at me, but it’s a soft, familiar smile. “In the end, I suppose I realized why.”

                I pause and shift on the bed. The itching is starting to return, but I don’t dare grab the stone in front of him. Instead I twist on a strand of hair around my finger and pull on it, trying to ignore the pain emanating from my roots. “Who was the student?”

                “That would be telling.” I feel like he almost wants to make it into some sort of joke, but I can’t help but hear the sadness reflected in his voice.

                “And the consequences?” I push.

                He just shakes his head, and I let silence fall between us. I had taken off my snowy sneakers by the door and now pull my feet onto the bed so I can bury my mouth in my knees and grab the stone a bit more subtly. For some reason, I can feel it almost start pulsing immediately, despite the fact that I’m not really thinking happy thoughts right now. In fact, I doubt I would even be able to focus on something happy if I tried. There’s a deep ache resonating from somewhere in my chest, and I’m only half-certain I know where it’s coming from, but I decide to speak up anyway.

                “It’s really sad,” I murmur through the denim.

                “Mmm?” he asks.

                I sigh. I don’t want to say the words. It’s not my business, and yet it still hurts me in a way I can’t explain. “You still love her, twelve years later.” I squirm uncomfortably. “I guess that’s why you spend so much time alone, right? Because you don’t want to get hurt that badly again?” When he doesn’t say anything, I continue. “I just…it makes sense, but it’s still sad.” I turn to look at him. “I don’t think you’ll ever get over her, but do you think you’d ever, I don’t know, open up to someone else again?”

                He smiles sadly. “Perhaps,” he says as he looks away.

                It’s all too sad, too overwhelming, and I need to change the mood between us. With a sigh and a frustrated push, I jump off the bed. I stand in front of him and spread my arms. “As Virginia will tell you, I am _not_ a huggy person. And I know that you’re my professor and everything but you seem like you could use a hug. So, if you want a hug, here.” I stand there awkwardly for a moment, my arms out by my sides, refusing to look at him.

                He chuckles to himself. “Well, I suppose since we are on holiday, I am not _technically_ your professor at the moment.” I’m about to respond when he gets up suddenly, pulling me in his arms. I don’t know what to do, so I just wrap my arms around his middle. He, however, seems much more comfortable, as if this was an action he was all too familiar with. My head is tucked under his chin, and he holds me steady with one hand as he trails his free hand through my hair, up and down my back. It feels nice, and I close my eyes as I relax into him.

                We stand there for I don’t know how long, and idly my mind wanders to him. When is the last time he hugged somebody? Has he really never gotten this close to another human being in _twelve years_? Eventually he pulls away from me, slowly, and I avert my eyes. He’s my professor. The flirting, the contact, the gifts…

                “I’m sorry,” he says, as he sees the look on my face.

                “No, no, don’t be,” I say softly. “I just-“ I shrug. “I guess I just needed that too.”

                I look up at him slowly, and there’s something in his eyes that I can’t place. “I was going to get dinner,” he says shortly. “Would you like to join me?”

                “Christmas dinner, just you and me?” I ask teasingly. “I don’t know, are you sure that’s…appropriate?”

                He sighs, as if this was a question that he’d been considering for quite some time. “Honestly?” he asks, and for some reason his face takes on a much younger, boyish quality. “I don’t even care right now.”

                I smile and my fingers lace with his as we head towards the doorway. Midway through, I stop mid-step, turning around to stare at our joined hands. Had I really just taken his hand? I didn’t _like_ holding hands with people. The only person I occasionally held hands with was Tommy, and he seemed to insist on it for some reason. But when I had taken Hieronymous’ hand just now it had felt so natural…

                “Something wrong?” he asks.

                “Uh,” I hold up our linked hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, you know-“   

                “I don’t mind,” he says simply, and he keeps a firm grip on my hand as he leads me out the door. As we head down to the staff cafeteria, I can’t help but quell the thoughts rushing through my brain. _Okay, I think I like him. Maybe more than like him. Maybe a lot more than like him. But even weirder than that, I think he might like me too, maybe even more than he’s letting on._ And sure, that was all well and good, but he was fourteen years older than me. He was my _professor_. I was his _student_.

I can’t imagine any way in which this could possibly have a happy ending.


	25. Chapter 25

                Christmas dinner with Hieronymous was weird, although I’m not sure if it was weird because it actually was weird, or if it was weird because it wasn’t. Hieronymous and I actually carried on a conversation like two normal human beings. For once, I got him to drop his scholarly tone and actually talk to me like a person, and although he mostly kept the conversation focused on me and my interests and hobbies, I didn’t mind. A couple of times, other members of staff came down to eat and they looked at us strangely, but Hieronymous didn’t even glance in their direction. At first I thought they were looking because I was a student in the teacher’s staff room, but I quickly realized that Hieronymous probably ate in here alone, and to see him not only sitting, but conversing pleasantly with anyone, was a shock.

                The rest of break actually passed quite nicely and without any more incidents. I actually went up to Hieronymous’ room every day to read, and although that was all we did, it was nice. Once I even fell asleep on his bed reading, and he had insisted that I stay the night while he slept at his desk, his head on his arms. I felt bad about it, but he was so insistent that I stay that I couldn’t refuse him. He had stopped reading the book I had gotten him for a Secret Santa present, and was instead reading anther another academic book in another language. We had no more private dinners, there were no more gifts or jewelry, there was no more hugging or even touching, but it still felt nice to just be around him. I couldn’t be sure if I had feelings for him, or if he had feelings for me, or if we were just two lonely people taking solace in each other, but whatever the case, I couldn’t shake the feeling that as long as I was near him, I was happy. And that was enough for me.

                On the last Saturday before everyone came back to school, I woke up at 5 AM and headed into the mail room to do my usual treasurer duties. Professor Grabiner was not there yet, although I hadn’t really expected him to be. He had been coughing and sneezing all day yesterday, and I was suspecting that although it didn’t look like he really ever left his room, that he was starting to come down with some sort of a cold. I was a bit curious why he didn’t just ask one of the teachers who was more skilled in green magic, like Professor Potsdam, to just fix him right up, but I suppose he was too proud for that.  This was still Grabby after all, and although he seemed to have a soft spot for me, I doubt he would let anyone else get as close to him as I had been all week. Did that make me special? In some ways yes, in some ways no, but I was special to _him_ , and this seemed to matter an awful lot to me, for reasons I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit to myself just yet.

                But as I sorted through the boxes, I had no idea that I was about to prove myself very, very wrong. I had been sorting the mail by hall, Horse Hall, Butterfly Hall, etc. when I came across a package that didn’t have a hall name on it. Curiously, I glanced up at the name to see who it belonged to and dropped it back on the table in shock.  

                _Mrs. Grabiner_

My eyes widened, and a little laugh escaped me. Mrs. Grabiner? No, that wasn’t possible. That was a joke, right? A really not-funny joke? He had told me his whole sob story about how he had lost his girlfriend twelve years ago, but he had never mentioned a wife. I had asked him if he could open up to someone else again and he had said…he had said _perhaps_. No mention of a wife there. Was he really married? Or maybe, were they divorced? Did she leave him? Or did-?

                I can feel a burning sensation in the back of my head, and it’s ridiculously strong. This time, I don’t even try to fight it. _Mrs. Grabiner._ I embrace the words, let them flow through me, around me, and for some reason I think I can hear him saying her name, but there’s so much static and I can’t piece through any of it. Have I met her? Who was she? I try to picture her face, but I can’t. For some reason, there’s nothing there. I focus as hard as I can, trying to make myself see her. _Who is she?_ I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a large black room with nothing on either side of me. Occasionally, whispers and lights and colors will rush past me, like leaves in a gust of wind, but they’re moving too fast for me to catch hold of.

                _Let me see._ I rush after them, running as fast as I can, letting lights burst up in front of my vision. I see something rush above my head and I jump to try to catch it, feeling myself lift easily off the ground. I’m almost weightless now, like I’m floating in space, but I don’t even realize it. I forget about where I am. I forget about the stone around my neck. I forget about the advice Hieronymous gave me, not to dwell on it. I don’t care about any of that now. I want to know what is happening to me. I want answers, and I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t. I don’t care. I just want to know.

                As if in answer, I can finally see things. Well, flashes of things, at any rate. The lights stop zooming by so fast, and the words become easier to catch, and even though I am still only catching snippets of things, they are more than I ever got before. I hear words. A woman talking. _Kindness and corn_. What? What does that have to do with anything? I can see something big and…blue? Green? It’s hurting me…I think I can feel hands clenched tightly around my throat, but it feels faint, like a dream that happened a long time ago, and for some reason I think I’m in a dungeon. Was this a test? I swirl around it for a while, but it feels like I’m trying to open doors that are locked. I had encountered a…what was it?…a Manus in a test once, but it was just an illusion. Why was this one hurting me? Was this real, or was this a nightmare I had had after the test? I can’t remember…

                …but I want to. _Mrs. Grabiner. Show me Mrs. Grabiner._ Suddenly I feel a strong pull, stronger than any sensation I had ever felt before. I briefly consider trying to get out of it, but I don’t want to. It feels like I am floating in a river being pushed downstream, and I don’t try to fight against the current. _This_ is it, I can feel it. This is the answer to all of my questions. Whatever is at the end of the nonexistent river, on the other side of this invisible door somewhere in front of me, is the answer. If I can just get it open…

                I push with all of my strength in front of the swirling mass of colors that have gathered in front of me, willing myself to see it with all of my might. _Let me see. Let me see it._ I am shouting in my own head. At first I think I see a glimpse of something, but it’s too fuzzy to be sure. And then I think I have something, not a vision, but a feeling, a sense of understanding when I can feel someone reaching for me, trying to pull me out. It feels like I am deep underwater and someone reached their hand in and grabbed me around the neck, pulling me up towards the surface. No, I am so close, closer than I have ever been before to figuring out what the hell is going on with me. But whatever is pulling me up is strong, and I can’t fight it no matter how much I want to. 

                _NO._ I shriek with every fiber of my being, trying to go back down. I try to cling to it, cling to whatever space this is, but the colors are slipping away from me now and the whispers are dying down around me and when I blink next, I don’t see anything. All the color has faded from my vision and I’m surrounded by blackness.

                I try to blink, I try to open my eyes, but I don’t see anything but black in front of me. I’m about to try to cry out when I feel a severe pain cutting into my body, as if knives were pressing into me from all sides. I start to scream, but my voice chokes at first, as if I’m not expecting it. But then it’s there, loud and piercing, even to my own ears. It’s making my ears _hurt_ , and suddenly I’m not sure if the screaming is coming from inside of me or outside of me or around me, but every molecule on my skin is burning like it’s on fire and I can’t help but scream. I scream as loud as I can, for as long as I can, before I feel something slip away from me and everything stops. The burning is gone. The screaming is gone. Everything stops. Everything is quiet.

                _Am I dead?_

I don’t know how long it is until I eventually blink and open my eyes. The first thing that enters my mind is that I’m not in the mail room anymore as I sit up and take stock of myself. I’m still here, in one piece, and it takes me a second to gather that I’m in Hieronymous’ room, lying on his bed, sneakers and all. I sit up slowly, my eyes darting around me. For some reason, I don’t feel safe. I feel like the character in the first five minutes of a horror movie, scared, uneasy, and pretty sure danger is going to lash out at me from an unexpected source at any second. My eyes eventually settle on Hieronymous. He is sitting at his desk, not reading, just staring at the wall, sitting with his fingers in front of his mouth, looking concerned. For some reason, I expect to feel relieved to see him. I search myself, but it’s not there, and it takes me a minute until I remember why.

                I shift on the bed, my muscles protesting as I pull myself into a better seated position. Hieronymous immediately catches sight of me and stands up.

                “You’re awake.”

                I swallow hard, not sure if I want to look at him or not. “What happened to me?” I ask slowly. “Something happened.”

                “I told you not to focus on it,” he says softly. I try to meet his eyes, but he looks down and away. He looks almost embarrassed, like someone who got _caught_ and that’s when I realize that he knows I know.

                “Your wife,” I exclaim. I hop out of bed, and use my left hand to steady myself. The room sways a little bit, but I try to make that as unobvious as possible. “You have a _wife?_ ”

                He closes his eyes for a moment, and for some reason I can’t tell if he looks relieved or disappointed. Maybe both, but that particular mixture of emotions makes no sense to me, especially not right now. “What happened in your…vision?” he asks. “Did you happen to see anything?”

                “No,” I yell at him suddenly. “No, I didn’t, because right when I thought I was about to, someone pulled me out.”

                 “I told you not to focus on it,” he yells back, but I’m not afraid of him, not right now. I’m too angry to be afraid. “I told you when this starts to happen to grab the stone, to focus, and to come and see me as soon as possible.”

                “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” I ask, a tinge of hysteria rising in my voice. “I feel like, I feel like something’s _wrong_ with me and I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t know who to talk to about it-“

                “You shouldn’t talk to anyone about this,” he says, his voice a bit calmer now.

                “No, but you want me to talk to _you_ about it,” I say, and suddenly I put two and two together. The secret private tutoring sessions with him that didn’t seem to have anything to do with magic, why he was being so nice to me when he seemed to hate everyone around him, and what he had said to me earlier this week were the three biggest clues of all. He said he had been doing an experiment that went out of control and a student got hurt. There were consequences, but he wouldn’t tell me who the student was or what the consequences were…

                I gasp, and cover my mouth with both hands.

                “Tori-“ He takes a step towards me, and I take a step back. He looks frightened now, as if he’s afraid that I’ve uncovered the truth. And I have.

                “What did you _do_ to me?” I yell at him.

                He shakes his head rapidly and blinks, as if he’s not sure he heard me correctly. “What?”

                “You were messing around with advanced magic last year and a student got hurt,” I say. “You told me so yourself. Am I some sort of experiment? Did you…did you do something to me?”

                “No,” he says firmly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He doesn’t look so sure.

                I run my hands through my hair as I look around desperately. _Whatever he’s hiding, he’s not going to tell me_. I make a noise in the back of my throat. I don’t even know what to say. “You have a _wife?”_

                “Tori-“

                “No, just tell me, do you have a wife?” I ask, but he just turns away. I need him to answer this question. I need to know if he can answer one simple _fucking_ question truthfully. “Professor Grabiner. Hieronymous. Tell me, are you married?”

                He lets out a long sigh and rubs his forehead with one hand. “Yes.” The word drips out of him reluctantly.

                “So you do,” I blink at him. “You do have a wife.” I laugh to myself, running my hands through my hair again. _I’m an idiot_. “And after that stupid sob story you fed me about Violet-“

                “Everything I told you is true,” he snaps, turning back to me.

                “But you conveniently left out the part that you were married,” I suck in a deep breath. “After…after all the time we spent together, and the, the gift you gave me, and the…the…” It doesn’t matter now. I turn to him. “Do you love her?”

                “I- that’s-“ He blinks and seems to stumble over what he wants to say. “That is none of your concern.”

                “Right,” I say, although my anger is quickly dissipating. I feel like I’m about to cry, and I try to keep myself talking, trying to bring the anger back. “None of my business. Of course not.” I clench and unclench my fists. “I guess you’re right. You are right. I’m an idiot. I am a stupid girl. Maybe this is why Jason warned me to stay away from you. Because you…you…you lure people in and- and- and-“ I don’t even know where I’m going with this anymore. Is that even what happened? I can’t think straight right now.

                “You know that’s not what happened,” he snaps.

                “You’re a teacher,” I yell suddenly. “I’m a student. You took advantage of me. You made me trust you.”

                “That is not what happened,” he yells back. “Things are more complicated than you can understand right now.” He sucks in a breath, and when he speaks again, his voice is much gentler. “Tori, please don’t say anything now that you’ll regret later.”

                 “Regret?” I ask. “What is there to regret? I thought there was a-a connection between us. I thought-“

                But no. What did I think though? Really? That he really liked me that way? He was my teacher. He would never date his students. No, that was me. I was the one who pushed myself on him. I must have. Heck, I even had that dream about him. It would be easier to blame him, to hate him, and part of me does, but honestly? I need to face the reality that this is all my fault…

                …or was I just saying that because it was easier to accept? Things were too complicated right now. I needed time to think. And space. I needed to be alone to sort things out on my own.

                “I have to go.”

                “Tori-“ He takes a step towards me and he cares, he _cares_ , I can see it in his eyes, and for some reason, that just makes everything worse.

                “I don’t think I want to see you anymore,” I say quietly, and I walk out of the room as quickly as possible without looking back.


	26. Chapter 26

                As I walk back to my room, I can’t help but notice that there are people milling about in the quad all around me, and the campus is finally coming back to life after a long break. A quick look at the sky tells me that it looks like it’s late afternoon, and I figure I must have been out for about ten hours. _Ten hours? Had I really been out all day?_ I want to think on it more, but not here. I need to get back to the privacy of my room and settle in for a long night of deep thinking. But as I enter Horse Hall and walk down the corridor, I can see that the door to my room is open. As I peer inside, I can see Virginia and Ellen unpacking and chatting excitedly with Donald, who is sitting cross-legged on Ellen’s bed.  

                “Hey guys,” I say, forcing my voice to sound as casual as possible as I shut the door behind me. At the start of break, I couldn’t wait for them to get back. Now that they’re here, I wished they would have held off another day. _Had I really been out for ten whole hours? What happened to me?_

                “Hey,” Virginia says cheerily. “Why are you back so early? I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow.”

                “I didn’t go home,” I say quietly, and they all turn to look at me as I sit down on my bed. The sudden realization that I’m never going to leave Iris Academy again until I graduate hits me like a brick to the face, but I try not to let it show. They’re obviously waiting for me to continue, and so I have no choice but to explain myself. “I waited all weekend for my parents to pick me up, but turns out they couldn’t make it, with the snow and all.”

                “Aw, you should have told us,” Donald says. “You could have come to our house. It would’ve been a lot of fun. There were a lot of people there.”

                For some reason, this assertion actually makes me glad that I _didn’t_ go, and that surprises me. It reminds me of another anti-social person that I would rather not think about right now. “Eh, it’s fine. I got some reading done here,” I say lamely.

                “Reading?” Virginia asks. “Is that all you did all break?”

                I hesitate. I decide not to tell them that about the book on memory spells that I had found in the library. I decide not to tell them that I had made my parents forget about me. I decide not to tell them that I had been basically hanging out with Grabby all week. I realize that I’m starting to keep a lot of secrets recently, but I don’t know how to feel about anything just yet, and I want to keep my cards close to my chest until I can figure out more. There’s no need to get them involved with any of this.

                “Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “What did you guys do all break?”

                They don’t seem to notice my mood as the three of them tell me all about their vacation and about all the people that had stopped by. Apparently Pastel and Jacob had gotten into a big fight, that was a bit of hot gossip that would keep the rumor mill turning for weeks on end, but I can’t really bring myself to care. I nod and act interested, but my mind is elsewhere. I know I should pay better attention to what they are saying and embrace it as a welcome distraction to everything that had happened to me recently, but all of the talk about family and festivities also reminds me of my parents and the home that I gave up.

                “Sounds like you had a great time,” I say eventually. The heat in the room is starting to kick on, and it’s getting hot with the four of us just sitting around talking. I pull my hoodie off over my head, and the dark blue stone pulls out from underneath my tee shirt, almost hitting me in the face.

                “What’s that?” Virginia asks as she eyes the stone.

                The stone falls into place right over my heart and I hesitate, picking it up casually between my fingers. “Oh, this thing? I’ve always had this thing.”

                But Virginia is getting closer now, clearly interested. “I’ve only ever _heard_ about these things. Can I touch it?”

                “Touch it?” I ask blankly.

                “I want to feel it,” she says, smirking at me. “But I guess it wouldn’t work for me. I mean, it’s personal, right? It’ll only work for you. So, who gave it to you?”

                I tilt my head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

                “Oh come on,” Donald says. “We all know what that is.”

                “What what is?” Ellen asks, and I’m glad that there’s someone else in this room who is as utterly confused as I am right now.

                “Oh, I keep forgetting you wildseeds don’t know,” Virginia laughs. “It’s sort of a story really. There aren’t many of those stones around.”

                “What’s it do?” Ellen asks.

                Virginia raises her eyebrows and looks at me expectantly. “Who gave it to you?”

                “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” I tell her, and she sighs.  

                “Okay, fine, but I’m going to tell,” Virginia warns.

                “Go ahead then.” I cross my arms across my chest, trying to look as uninterested as possible, knowing that this will only goad Virginia on more.

                “It’s that knotted cord that sort of gives it away,” she says. “It doesn’t have a clasp or anything, does it?”

                “I think it-“ I reach behind my neck and realize that, no, it doesn’t have a clasp. It’s smooth all the way around. _But when Professor Grabiner had adjusted it around my neck, hadn’t he connected it with some sort of clasp? There_ had _to be a clasp. How else would he have connected the two ends?_

                Virginia comes around my side of the bed to check, and I obediently hold up the back of my hair in a high pony so she can see the cord. 

                “No, it doesn’t,” Virginia confirms. “Because instead of a clasp, the person who gave you the necklace held the two ends together and sealed it themselves using magic.”

                “Okay,” I say levelly. “So someone gave me a necklace and sealed the ends so that it doesn’t have a clasp. And that is significant how, exactly?”

                “And it means it’s _sealed_ ,” she says, putting a heavy emphasis on the last word. “You know, magically? It means it fits you and only you. No one else can wear it. It’s sort of a magical tradition, a way to show someone that you’re special to them.”

                My heart jumps into my chest, and I feel like she’s waiting for me to say something. If she’s waiting for me to tell her who gave it to me, she’s going to be waiting a long time. “I still don’t understand,” Ellen says. “I get that sealing the necklace is a bit romantic, but why is the stone important? What’s the story?”

                “Should I tell her?” Virginia asks, turning to me.

                “Go ahead,” I say quickly. It’s the most I can manage. I’m still trying to control the blush on my cheeks since Ellen used the word ‘romantic.’

                “Fine,” Virginia sighs. “If you won’t. Traditionally, there are two identical stones. The guy has his and then he gives the other to a girl that he chooses to be his, like his soulmate or whatever, if you believe in that stuff. And it’s cute because, well, at least according to rumor, if she loves him back, she can squeeze the stone and feel his heartbeat. And if she can, it sorts of activates the two stones, and then he can feel her heartbeat, and they’re like, bonded.” She laughs. “At least that’s the story anyway, if you buy into all of that mushy romantic true love stuff.”

                I make a noise in the back of my throat and I think I’m about to vomit. The implication of jewelry had been enough for me, but to know that this was a gift for lovers? For _soulmates_? My mind is racing. Surely, Virginia has to be mistaken, but she was right about the clasp and I _had_ felt been able to feel a heartbeat…that was _his_ heartbeat _?_ I feel as though I’m about to choke on the air in my lungs. Does that mean that he has one for me? Does that mean he can feel _my_ heartbeat?

                “So who gave it to you?” Virginia asks, and I quickly pull my hoodie back on to hide the fact that goosebumps are racing up and down my arms. “Who’s the special guy in your life?”

                “I saw you walking around with Tommy after the ceremony before Christmas break,” Donald pipes up. “Did he give it to you?”

                They all spin around and look at me expectantly. I suppose it’s as good an excuse as any. “It’s none of your business,” I say hotly, trying my best to look as embarrassed as possible. Lucky for me, I don’t need to try all that hard.

                “He did,” Virginia claps her hands. “I knew it.”

                “Yeah, yeah,” I say quickly, looking away from her.

                “Maybe we should talk about something else,” Ellen offers, and I look at her gratefully.

                So we talk about other things, like our classes and the tests that are coming up, but the way Virginia had said the word _soulmate_ still rings in my ears. Why had he given this to me? Did he do it because he thought it would help me? Is that why he didn’t want me to tell anyone who gave it to me? Did he know of the implications of the necklace but want me to remain ignorant? And was that just a story, or would the necklace really not work unless I loved him? _Did I really_ love _him?_ It’s eating me up inside. I have to know.

                I wait until they get ready to go to dinner and make some excuse to get out of it. While they’re gone, I slip back to Hieronymous’ room, running as fast as my legs will carry me. I know I had just told him that I didn’t want to see him again, but I had to get answers and he was the only one who could give them to me. The sun had set already, and it was dark and cold as I made my way across the quad and up to his room.

                “Hieronymous,” I shout as I bang on the door with my fist. “I need to talk to you.”  

                I can hear him on the other side of the door, but he does not open it. “I believe you made yourself quite clear this afternoon, Ms. Brown.”

                I flush with anger. Sure, that’s what I had said then, but I didn’t know that things could have gotten even more complicated than they were a few hours ago. “Okay, fine,” I shout back. “I’m just going to tell the _whole_ _school_ -“

                The door opens suddenly, but it only opens a crack. He doesn’t want me coming inside. His face is set, and he doesn’t look happy. He waits for me expectantly.

                “Take off your shirt,” I snap. A brief flicker of surprise registers on his face before he snuffs it out. “You heard me, take it off.”

                “I don’t believe-“

                “I need to see if you’re wearing it,” I say quickly. “I need to know.” He eyes me suspiciously. “I know, okay? So just tell me.”

                “Know?” he repeats.

                “About the stone,” I snap with frustration. I am so tired of this. Can he ever just be straight with me? Just once? “I heard the story, the whole stupid romantic story. It’s a present that _lovers_ exchange? So they can feel each other’s heartbeat? Any of this ring a bell?” He glances away. “You mean to tell me that I fell asleep _listening to your heart beat?_ ” I flush with color. I hadn’t exactly planned on making that information known; it just sort of slipped out.

                “I know the implications,” he says angrily, completely ignoring my outburst. “Which is why I didn’t want you to tell anyone. But I can see-“

                “My roommates aren’t ignorant wildseeds like me,” I snap. “Well, at least one of them is, but I didn’t tell them anything. They saw it when I took my hoodie off and they knew the story. And I didn’t tell them that _you_ gave it to me, and I’m not going to, so your secret is safe with me. I’m not-“ I think I see a flash of movement behind him. “What was that?”

                “What was-?”

                “What was that?” I demand. “Who’s in there with you?”

                “There’s no one-“ he starts, but I raise my hand to create a gust of wind to push the door open. Somehow, he swallows the spell, glaring at me. “I think you should go.”

                I don’t need magic. I throw my shoulder into the door, putting my full weight into it, and it crashes open. Standing in the middle of the room, looking quite embarrassed, is… _Minnie?_

                “WHAT THE _FUCK_?”

                “Tori-“ he starts, but I can see he too is at a loss for words. They both stand there, eyes downcast to the floor, neither knowing quite what to say.

                I can’t hide the look of revulsion across my face. I thought, well, I obviously knew I was wrong before when I found out that he had a wife, but _this?_ How many students was he playing?

                “I-“ I honestly think that I’m about to vomit. Or cry. Or both. I look up at him, shaking my head. “I am done. I am just…so, so done. With all of this.” I push past him out the door and run as fast as I can. I can’t go back to my room. I don’t want them to see me like this. Instead, I make my way towards the trails. It’s cold and dark and there’s no one around. I’m freezing, but it barely registers. Instead, I brush the snow off a nearby bench and sit down, immediately grimacing as the wet cold permeates the back of my pants. Honestly? I don’t even care. That’s the least of my problems right now.

                What was Minnie doing in his room? How did she even know where he lived? As much as I hated to admit it, there was probably only one reason…and I didn’t want to have to deal with that. Ever. The implications were just too much. Idly, I’m wondering if he gave her a stone too, or if you can give people multiple stones, or if one person can have multiple soulmates, or if such a thing as soulmates even existed in the first place, when someone walks up to me. “Hey, Tori, what’cha doing out here?”  

                I breathe a sigh of relief as the shadow that steps out to greet me is Tommy. I don’t know why I’m relieved to see him, but I am. He’s a little normal, uncomplicated light in the middle of this great big sea of confusion. “Just had to get away for a while.”

                “Tough break?” he asks. “Didn’t you go home to see your parents?”

                “They, uh, couldn’t make it, with the snow,” I say softly. I think about it for a moment. I don’t want to tell my roommates anything. I don’t want them to treat me like a fragile piece of glass or, or, I don’t know. But Tommy, he’s different. He’s sweet, uncomplicated, and has proven himself to be a very good listener when I’ve needed him in the past. “Can you keep a secret?”

                “Of course,” he replies.

                I sigh, and let it out. “My parents forgot me. Literally.”

                He frowns. “You mean, you made The Choice? The other, The Choice?”

                “Yeah,” I say softly. “I mean, we had been growing apart, and then, I don’t know, it just felt like the right thing to do.”

                “Right thing to do or not, it couldn’t have been easy,” Thomas says, taking my hand in his. He pushes some snow off the other side of the bench with his free hand and sits down next to me. He lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around me, and I rest my head against his chest, snuggling into the front of his thick winter jacket. “And you were here by yourself?” he asks. “With no one to talk to about it?”

                “Yeah,” I mutter.

                “Tell me about it, then,” he says. “If you want to. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

                And I do. So I tell him everything, selectively editing the details. I tell him about finding the book on memory spells in the library and about Professor Grabiner coming in, seeing what I was reading, and shouting at me. How I went to Professor Potdsam’s office and how she thought I only was reading the book for information on my parents, and how I had made The Choice, then and there.

                “That’s not right,” Tommy shakes his head. “They practically forced you into it.”

                “They didn’t force me,” I say, even though I don’t have the slightest idea why I’m so adamant to defend them.

                “No, but saying ‘erase your parent’s memories and then I’ll tell you what your punishment is’ is a pretty strange way to go about it.”

                “Yeah,” I shrug. “I mean, I guess.”

                “What if you chose not to?” he asks. “Do you think they would have sent you home without your magic?”

                I shudder, and he moves a little closer to me. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m here,” he says. I always thought of Tommy as a cute little kid, but right now he looks so serious and deep in thought, that he does look his age, if not older. I don’t know why, but I keep forgetting he’s only a year younger than me.

                “I care about you,” he says finally. “I care about you so much that I’m never letting you go into that library alone again. No more learning for you. From now on, I’m only going to let you use Donald’s notes to study from, and you know how well he pays attention.”

                “Nooo,” I laugh out loud, smacking his arm gently. This is what I needed. Tommy was my friend. Tommy was my age. Tommy was uncomplicated. He was funny and boyish when he wanted to be, but thoughtful and protective too. I didn’t need Grabiner’s drama in my life. Sure, he was attractive and smart and witty and sagacious, but he was also damaged in a way that I couldn’t understand. Why else would he be looking to pick up high school girls when he had a wife? It didn’t make any sense. The worst part was that I thought whatever connection we had between us was genuine. I honestly thought he really cared about me…

                ...but I had to forget about that now. I had to put that behind me.

                “I like you too,” I whisper to Tommy as I wrap my arms around him and rest my head on his shoulder. It’s not a lie, I do, but not really in that way. Maybe I could learn to though? With enough time?  


	27. Chapter 27

                Tommy and I walk back to my dorm together, our hands intertwined the whole way. Honestly, maybe I made too big a deal out of it before. It’s not bad holding hands with Tommy, and I like the way he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb as we walk. It’s not long until we reach my dorm, and he comes in with me to say hi to everyone. As soon as we push open the door and they see our hands locked together, the jokes and laughs begin. I just shrug it off, as does Tommy, and we sit around and talk for a while until we have to kick both him and Donald out so we can get to bed.

                “So are you guys, like, official now?” Ellen asks as she pulls the covers up to her chin.

                “Official?” I ask, settling into my own bed.

                “Dating,” Virginia clarifies. “You two are so cute together.”

                I shrug, although they can’t see it. “I’m not sure.”

                “Well, do you want to be?” Ellen asks thoughtfully.

                “I’m not sure,” I repeat. “I mean, he’s great. He’s nice, and he’s sweet, and he’s thoughtful, but I don’t know if I’m ready for anything to be _more_ yet, you know?”

                “Well, you are wearing that thing,” Virginia says, and I don’t have to ask what she’s referring to. “It’s kind of like a wedding ring or something.”

                I roll over to face her bed. “I am _not_ getting married to Tommy.”

                “Okay, okay,” she says dismissively. “Whatever you say… _Mrs_. Thomas Howell.”

                “Ugh,” I make a noise in the back of my throat and roll over.

                Hesitantly, I slip my fingers around the stone and hold it to my chest, trying to focus. It beats once, maybe twice, before it’s extinguished. I try to get it back, but I can’t. Maybe he broke the connection, maybe I did, but it doesn’t matter. It’s over with. It’s done. I’ll put Grabiner behind me and date a boy like Tommy. Someone normal. Someone nice.

                I kick at the covers restlessly. _But what if that’s not what I want?_

                Monday morning we have a test first thing after coming back from break, and I was glad to see that Jason was the one who was proctoring it. It was another creature-crawly dungeon map, and I was running around shooting things and blowing things up, just like before.

“Good job!” Jason cheers, giving me a high five as he teleports me out. “How does that feel?”

                “It feels good,” I say, panting a little, my hands on my knees. “I like the exercise.”

                “Kicking that monster head and then bursting it into flames right as it hit the others was a cool move,” he says. “I was cheering you on from here.”

                “It felt like soccer,” I say. “I haven’t played in a while, with break and all. Thought I was getting rusty.”

                “Doesn’t look like it,” he says. “And for that showing, I’m going to give you ten merits. Head on out. There’s a tray of cookies out there over at the victor’s table.” He winks at me, and I blush excitedly as I head outside.

                Virginia, who had gone in directly before me, was still there, munching on cookies. “How’d it go?” she asks, crumbs tumbling down onto her shirt.

                “I was like, ‘pew pew pew,’” I tease, holding my hands out in finger guns as I stuff a cookie into my mouth. “I set a monster’s head on fire and kicked it at some creeps. I think I miss Sports Club a little too much.”

                She laughs, hitting my arm lightly. “Same here. I’m so glad Jason was proctoring the exam today. I think it’s like, the first time I’ve gotten all ten merits.”

                “At least he _appreciates_ other magics,” I snort. “Old Grabby had a cow when I used red magic on the last test. I did _amazing_ and he just was like-“ I hold up my nose with one finger to make myself sound stuffy and pompous. “Oh, red magic, how mundane.”

                Virginia laughs. “So I take it no more private study lessons with him anymore?”

                “Oh hell no,” I shake my head. “Please, I don’t want to spend any more time with him than I have to. I should get merits just for putting up with him.”

                “Hey, Tori, can I talk to you for a second?” I whirl around, half expecting Professor Grabiner to be there, but no, it’s just Minnie.

                Before I can answer, Virginia says, “Yeah, it’s cool, I think I’ve had enough cookies.” But she takes a handful more before she walks off.

                “I don’t think there’s anything we have to talk about,” I say coolly, turning to go.

                “Wait,” she says quickly. “I don’t have time now to explain everything. But can you meet me in the library tonight? Around six? It’s about, you know.” She shifts uncomfortably.

                “Really?” I ask. I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one else is around. “Firstly, I’m over it. I’m over everything. Secondly, the library? Really? As if I haven’t had enough trouble there for one year?” She looks at me strangely. “Oh he hasn’t told you?” I brush my hair out of my face. “I guess you two aren’t that close yet. Don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll tell you if you ask him nicely.”

                I turn to go when she grabs my arm. “Tori-“ She sounds mad, but I can’t bring myself to care. “I need you to listen, really listen to what I’m about to tell you.”

                “Well then?” I ask, pulling my arm out of her grasp.

                She sighs, choosing her words carefully. “There is nothing _romantic_ going on between me and Professor Grabiner.” I roll my eyes until she adds. “I swear it.”

                I bite my tongue and stare at her for a moment. “Yeah, _romantic_. Okay, sure.”

                “Or that other way,” she says, and she seems kind of grossed out at the implication. “Look, I can tell you that there’s more going on here, more that you don’t know.  But if you’ll just meet me and Professor Grabiner tonight at six in the library-“

                “Me _and Professor Grabiner._ ” Now I do roll my eyes. “Wow, how convenient that you mention that now. It’s almost like you knew I wouldn’t go if you told me that he would be there.” I raise my eyebrows and shake my head as I stare down at the floor and make my decision. “Have a good night, Minnie.”

                I start to walk away, but she’s clearly not done. “He’s still wearing his, you know.”

                I can’t help myself. My head snaps back around instantly. I storm towards her. “How do you know about that? He _told_ you about that?”

                “It’s not what you think,” she starts, and I can feel myself growing hot. “You’re in danger, and-“

                “Tori!” Jason comes out of the room. I stop cold in my tracks, and the ball of energy that I didn’t realize was glowing in my fist fizzles out. “What’s going on? You know using magic on other students isn’t allowed.”

                I hold up my hands innocently as Minnie scurries away. “I wasn’t doing anything,” I say quickly. “Just joking around, that’s all.”

                He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t think you’d hurt anyone, Tori, but I don’t have a choice. You have detention with Professor Grabiner this Saturday.”

                “No, sir, please-“

                “Sorry, Tori,” he shrugs. “That’s the rules; I don’t have a choice here.”

                “No please,” I say quickly, and there’s urgency in my voice that makes him turn around to face me. I don’t know how to explain to him that I think Professor Grabiner has been doing weird experiments on me, because I don’t fully understand it myself just yet. “I don’t know what he’ll do to me. _Please._ ”

                He sighs and shakes his head. “Sorry, kiddo. Detention. Saturday.”

                I shake my head with disgust and storm out of the room. How do I tell Virginia and Ellen about what had just happened? The short answer is, I don’t. Instead, I head straight for Tommy’s room. I rap on the door and call his name. “Hey, Tommy, you in there?”

                “One sec,” he calls, and I can hear the shuffling of things being moved around as he opens the door.

                “Hey Tori,” he smiles at me, but stops when he sees my face. “What’s wrong?”

                “I got detention.” My shoulder’s slump and he takes my hand, closing the door behind him.

                “Want to take a walk?” I nod my head like a child. “Okay, let’s go.”

                “So you want to talk about why you got detention?” he asks. “Did something happen with Grabby again?”

                “No,” I shrug. “Me and this girl got into an argument after class. I was mad, and I didn’t realize that I was summoning magic.” I hold out my free hand and pull my energy into a small orb of light that rises out of my palm. I close my fingers around it quickly, dispelling it. “I wasn’t going to _do_ anything with it, you know, I wasn’t going to hurt her, but Jason saw it and said…I don’t know, he said he didn’t have a choice.”

                “Wait, Jason gave you detention?” Tommy asks. “That’s rough. I didn’t think Jason gave detention to anyone.”

                “Yeah, well, I guess I’m special,” I huff.

                “Hey, it won’t be that bad,” Tommy says, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb again. “I’ll get thrown in detention with you. Then you won’t be stuck alone with him.”

                “Yeah?” I ask. “You’d do that?”

                “Of course I would,” he says, grinning up at me.

                “Yeah, well, don’t,” I shrug. “I’m sorry; I just don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

                “Hey, I’m sixteen, almost seventeen now,” he says, turning to me. “I make my own choices.” I force a smile in his direction and we keep walking.

                “Can I have a hug?” I ask suddenly. “I think I can use a hug.”

                He smiles and we duck into a nearby cluster of trees. I wrap my arms around his middle and he puts his arms in a similar fashion around me. I rest my head on his shoulder, but it’s awkward. I close my eyes and remember the way Hieronymous had held me, the way he had run his hands up and down my back, how good it felt. It wasn’t just the physical sensation; I felt safe in his arms, I felt like I belonged there, I felt like-

                For a second, I think I can feel the pulse of his heartbeat through the stone, even though I’m not touching it, and I have to pull away from Tommy. “Thanks,” I mutter sheepishly, and he just nods as we step back onto the trail and continue walking.

                No, I had to forget about Hieronymous. I hadn’t had any of those weird brain itches since the last time I had seen him, which meant that they were probably tied to him in some way. In fact, he was probably the one who was doing them. Either it was part of some experiment that had gone massively wrong, or maybe they were just trigged in proximity to him. Whatever the case, the less time I spent around him, the safer I was. Whatever feelings I had for him, or thought I had for him, I had to put them aside.

                “Hey, want to get dinner?” Tommy asks eventually. “It’s about six o’clock.”

                It doesn’t take me more than a second to respond. “Dinner sounds good to me.”


	28. Chapter 28

                For the rest of the week, I avoid both Grabiner’s and Jason’s classes, deciding instead to focus on white and black magic with Professor Potsdam. At first I was concerned that she might say something to me about what had happened with Minnie, but she doesn’t treat me any differently, and I’m relieved that I don’t think Jason has told her about what happened. On Saturday morning, I get up promptly at 4 AM to get the mail and sort through it early, intent on getting in and out before Grabby could get there.

                But as much as I’m trying to avoid him, I can’t help going to detention. I don’t have a choice. If I don’t go, then he might tell Professor Potsdam and then I would really be in trouble. Luckily, Tommy had thought of a fool-proof plan to get sent to detention. “I’m just going to go,” he told me Friday night. “It’s genius. No one wants to get themselves thrown in detention, especially not with Grabby, so if I just show up, I doubt he’ll even ask why I’m there.”

                And so he literally drags me into the detention room with him, a few minutes late, of course, holding my hand firmly in his. “Reporting for detention,” he says resolutely. I avert Grabby’s eyes, and try to separate our hands, but Tommy remains firm. I swallow hard, waiting to see where this will go.

                “You are dismissed, Mr. Howell,” Grabby says at length.

                “But-“ Tommy starts.

                “You are dismissed,” Grabby yells, and even I flinch at his tone.

                “Fine,” Tommy says after a moment. He turns to me and lifts my hand to his lips, kissing the back of my fingers. I know he’s doing this to make Grabby jealous in some weird way, but I can’t help thinking that this is a bad move. He gets to ignite the spark of Grabby’s anger and then leave, while I have to stay and watch him burn.  

“You’ll be fine,” he says softly. “See you after.” I take a deep breath in and let it out as he shuts the door behind him, refusing to look at Professor Grabiner.

                “Sit down,” he says. I do so, taking a seat where I don’t have to look directly at him. He stands up and walks around the desk in front of me anyway, but I still can’t look up at him. Honestly, I’m a little afraid of who I might see, angry Grabby or Hieronymous. I don’t know how to handle either of them right now.  

                “What were you going to do to Ms. Cochran?” he asks.

                “Nothing,” I say. “I didn’t even realize I was doing anything.” He says nothing. “Really, I wasn’t going to hurt her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

                He doesn’t say anything for a long while, and I sit there, taking in the silence. “What were you doing with Mr. Howell?”

                “Holding hands, sir?” I ask sarcastically.

                “I don’t want to see you with that boy,” he says at length.

                “Looks like somebody’s jealous,” I say in a sing-song voice.

                I hear the slap before I feel it. I breathe in and out and straighten myself up, brushing the hair out of my face and ignoring the stinging sensation on the side of my head. At least I didn’t cry out. Did he really just hit me? Seriously? Was that his way of avoiding the no-magic-against-students rule? Hitting them?

                “Do you think this is a game?” he shouts at me, and suddenly I can feel myself being lifted in the air. He has me suspended in the air directly in front of him, and I struggle to touch the floor with my toes. I try to say something, but it feels like something has me around the throat.

                “I thought this matter could be resolved Monday night,” he says bitterly. “But no, you chose to go to him instead. I asked Ms. Cochran to extend an olive branch, and you burned it in front of me. This is an extremely precarious situation, and yet you seem determined to defy and taunt me at every turn.”

                I close my eyes as a wave of dizziness passes over me. I feel him release me, but when my feet hit the ground, it’s not the cool tile floor of the detention room. Instead, I’m in a dungeon. It’s dark, and I can hear things scurrying around and moving on the other side of the thick stone walls.

                For a moment, I’m scared. It’s really dark around me, and I feel as though something might be waiting to jump out at me at any second. “Professor?” I whisper, but there’s no answer. I take a few steps forward, tentatively, but it’s very, very dark and I can only see a few feet in front of my face. I summon a small ball of light in front of me and inch my way forward slowly, making all sorts of twists and turns until I finally come to a dead end that empties out into a small-sized room. I sigh and decide to stop here. There’s no way out if something were to attack, but the entry way looks narrow enough to only allow one monster in at a time, so at least it’s a semi-defensible position.

                _How long is he going to leave me down here? Is there a way out?_ For all I know, the maze could go on forever, and I didn’t know what kind of dangers were inside. Monsters? Pitfalls? Fire traps? _Was he going to leave me down here to die? Surely Professor Potsdam wouldn’t allow that. Someone would notice that I’m gone. Someone would come looking for me…right?_

                I hear something growl from deeper in the labyrinth and I quickly extinguish my light, throwing my back against the cold stone wall of the dungeon. I use a quick spell to warm myself, but only let it last a minute. I have no idea how long I will be down here for, and I have no idea if I might need to defend myself, so I better conserve my magic now to make the most of it.

                “Well, you wanted time alone to think, Tori,” I whisper to myself. “Here you go.”  

\---

                “Isn’t there _anything_ I can do?” Professor Grabiner asked. “There has to be _something_ , some way to end this marriage.”

                “I already told you, there isn’t a way,” Professor Potsdam replied. They were sitting in her office. Well, at least she was sitting. He was pacing.

                “She’s going to kiss that boy,” he said. “I know it. Then she’ll die and I’ll basically die.”

                “I can only imagine what is motivating your actions,” she said. “Is it jealousy, or self-preservation?” He glares at her, but when he doesn’t answer, she sweeps an empathy spell over him. “Jealousy? Hmm, I almost would have expected more of a combination of the two.”

                “I don’t have time for this,” he snapped. “I need to end this marriage. This is too dangerous, for both of us. What if we just _told_ her what happened? She might be able to take it and then we’re done with this, once and for all.”

                “Or she may _not_ be able to take it,” Professor Potsdam replied. “And we don’t exactly know what will happen to you then, either.”

                Professor Grabiner ran a hand through his hair. He was panicking now. Things had been going so well between them over Christmas break, and then all it took was one package, one accidental Christmas present sent from his father, to completely undo the whole thing. He wasn’t sure if her feelings for that boy she always hung about with were real, or if she was just using him as a toy to make him jealous, but either way, the results would not be good.

                He shook his head. She had learned about the meaning behind the stone he had given her, and she had learned that he was married, but she couldn’t put two and two together and remember that _she_ was the one who was married to him? Had she figured it out and simply rejected the notion as nonsensical? Or had she really not figured it out yet? He thought he had been doing everything possible to show her how much he cared about her, and yet she still seemed to doubt his motives. Was it still not enough? What more did she want from him?

                “Are you happy now?” he asked, turning on her. “You were so insistent on this union, and now it’s going to lead to both of our untimely deaths. Well done. At least I won’t die a bachelor.”

                “Oh come now,” she said. “Things can be repaired in time. She’s a girl. She’s just confused.” She shakes her head. “But in any case, she is quickly unravelling, and we need to pay attention to that.”

                “Unravelling?” he repeated, troubled.

                “The incident with Minnie Cochran?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

                “You don’t think she’d seriously-“

                “No, but someone who can do magic without being aware of it is a dangerous thing,” she said. “I’m sure you are well aware of that fact. Even given her emotional state at the time, we can’t run the risk that she could lose her temper and do magic around non-magical people. If we’re forced to strip her of her magic and send her away-“

                “That’s not going to happen,” he growled. “How would you even know what happened? You weren’t there.”

                “Ever since that incident with the book in the library, I have been keeping an extra close watch on her,” Potsdam replied. “I have eyes on her at all times. The girl can’t step a foot on this campus without me being aware of it.”

                He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. Wiping Tori of her memories completely would actually probably be one legitimate way to nullify the marriage, but that meant losing her forever, and it didn’t take him long to realize that he couldn’t risk that, even with his own magic on the line. This whole mess was his fault to begin with, and he wasn’t going to let her pay the price for his mistakes. “I’ll watch over her,” he said resolutely. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

                “I’m quite sure it won’t,” she said simply. “It did happen just the once, and slip ups happen to us all now and again, as I know it has happened to _you_ quite a few times. Hopefully it won’t be yet another issue we have to deal with. Something to be aware of, yes, but hopefully nothing major will come of it.”

                He sighed and slumped down in a chair, rubbing his temples with both hands. “Why does this have to be so _complicated_?”

                “Oh, marriage is always complicated,” Potsdam replied, and he shot her a look. “Now, it’s just curious to me,” she continued. “That you would lock her in a dungeon for hours upon hours. I believe just last year you threatened her with the same thing. It would be a pity if she would remember that when she’s locked down there all by herself, without any way out.”

                His eyes widened, and he quickly teleported himself out of her office. “Silly man,” Professor Potsdam said as she reached into a bowl on her desk and popped a sweet into her mouth. “For all the books that he reads, that man really hasn’t the smarts.”

                She sighed and picked up a piece of paper on her desk. Fortunately, Hieronymous had not caught sight of it. He was always so distracted and narrow-minded, focusing on either himself or that Tori girl of his. He would never be able to focus on the big picture. She held up the piece of paper in front of her and scanned down the list of students that had stayed on campus over holiday break. Tori’s name, of course, was near the top of the list, as she was still listed as Tori Brown in their registry, but it didn’t take her long until she spotted the other name she was looking for. _Thomas Howell._

                She simply wiped the name with her fingertip and watched it disappear off the list, the two names above and before it sliding together to close the gap that it had left. “Hmm,” she smiled to herself and put the paper back down on her desk, making a mental note to leave it in Professor Grabiner’s office on Monday morning.


	29. Chapter 29

                I silently curse at myself for not wearing a watch. I know I saw it sitting right on my night stand as I was about to head out the door this morning, but for some reason I had decided that I didn’t need it today. I don’t know how long I have been down here for, and I have no way to know how much time had passed upstairs. Was it still daylight? Night time? Was it Sunday already? At one point, I had started a little fire in front of me, but now it had all but burnt out and I didn’t have the magical energy to keep it burning. I keep hearing things crawl around me in the shadows, but I’m still not sure if they are really there, or if they are just illusions. I hope it’s the latter, because I honestly don’t know how I am going to defend myself if something tries to attack me.

                I sit with my back against the wall, hunched over, my face buried in my knees. _How long is he going to keep me down here?_ Judging by at least the growling in my stomach that has gotten progressively louder as time passed, I have been here for a decent amount of time. I had decided to skip breakfast this morning, and so the last time I’ve even eaten anything is probably over twenty-four hours ago. The dungeon is cold, really cold, and I can feel goosebumps prickling up all over my skin; my robes are nowhere near thick enough to keep me warm. I try rubbing my hands together to keep me warm, but the friction is more painful than anything, and I soon stop.

                Why did he even leave me down here? To learn my lesson? I had summoned magic without thinking, sure, but was that really punishable? Was it because he thought I was going to hurt Minnie? Surely he knew that I wouldn’t _do_ that. I was angry, sure, but I would never actually hurt anyone, unless it was out of self-defense. Surely he _had_ to know that.

                Was this about Tommy? He told me he didn’t want me to talk to Tommy anymore; was he going to keep me down here until I agreed to that? It didn’t make any sense. He had never liked me hanging out with Tommy, but I couldn’t see why he always seemed so _jealous_. Surely it was more than obvious that Tommy had a thing for me, but Professor Grabiner was a teacher, my teacher. There couldn’t be a thing between us, there just couldn’t be, and although he had hinted at things many times, through his actions, he had never told me how he really felt about me. If he really wanted me, why didn’t he just say so? Because it was inappropriate? Because he had a wife? Maybe if he would be honest with me, we could figure things out together.

                I shake my head and laugh quietly at myself. Work things out together? He had just thrown me in a dungeon, probably left me here to die, and yet I was still thinking about working things out with him? I honestly couldn’t tell which of us was more screwed up. For some reason, I knew he wouldn’t leave me down here forever, although I couldn’t tell if that part of me was just wishful thinking. He had seemed really angry when he left me down here, but that was because I had blown him off to spend time with Tommy. He was just jealous. Maybe if I apologized-

                I cross my arms across my chest. I have nothing to apologize for, not really. There was so much that was going on that he refused to tell me. How could I possibly trust him? Meanwhile, he had never even asked for my apology, never given me a chance to explain myself. Instead he had just thrown me down here, slammed the door shut behind him, and threw away the key. I had already tried to teleport myself out once, but it was no good. He did not want me getting out. I put my head in my hands and sulk. How could he do this to me? Or worse, how could he do this to me and how could I still harbor secret feelings for him after what he did? It was like there was a part of me that trusted him blindly, implicitly, and had a sense of unwavering confidence in him. I had no idea where that part of me was coming from, but it was resolute, unyielding, and it wouldn’t go away, no matter how much common sense I threw in its direction. Part of me wanted to slap him and lock _him_ away in a dungeon forever. Part of me wanted him to hold me and never let go. It was the most confusing thing I had ever experienced; it was like I was literally tearing myself in half.

                I hear something growl from out in the darkness, and it quickly brings me back to the present reality of my situation. I could think about him secretly caring about me all I wanted, but I had to face the facts. The last time he saw me, he was extremely angry with me. What if he felt that seeing me holding hands with Tommy right in front of him was the final rejection? I had taunted him and called him jealous, right to his face. What if he felt that there was no going back after this? What if he really did decide to lock me down here forever? Hadn’t he even threatened that once before? Didn’t he say that? I close my eyes and I can hear his voice in my head, sharp as a bell. _Push me again, mock me again, little girl. I will keep you so very safe. I will protect you in the depths of the darkest dungeon, until your giggling chums have forgotten your very name. I can make you_ disappear _._

I can feel the burning sensation in the back of my head, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it usually does right now. Instead, it’s a welcome distraction from the paralyzing cold that has taken over my body. I let my eyelids flutter shut as I try to follow the memory back, but I suddenly stop, overcome with a haunting sense of fear. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to see _that._

My fingers struggle frantically with my robes until I can fish out the dark blue stone. I don’t even know why I’m still wearing it. “Please Hieronymous,” I whisper, rocking back and forth on my knees. I have the stone clasped in both hands, holding it in front of my face like a prayer. The burning, itching sensation is getting stronger now, trying to coax me into it, but I can hear Professor Grabiner yelling at me, far back in my head, and I can taste the fear, the panic, feel the tears welling up behind my eyes. I am scared of him. I am scared of Professor Grabiner…

…but I’m not scared of Hieronymous. I still can’t fathom how they’re the same person, but I clutch the stone and think about the last week of Christmas break that we had spent together. I think about how he held me. I don’t care about the feelings that are bubbling up inside of me or how wrong it seems right now, especially if that will get me out of here.

                “Please, Hieronymous, please, if you can hear me, please get me out of here. I’m not mad at you. I know I messed up and this is my punishment but I’m scared, Hieronymous, I’m scared. Please don’t keep me locked in here forever.” I sound like a little child, whiny and afraid, but I can feel tears starting to sting on my cheeks. “Please let me out, _please_.”

                Suddenly the stone in my hand starts to throb. I feel a beat, so faint I’m barely sure I felt it, then one, then another. I close my eyes and breathe in and out to the steady drum of his heartbeat, concentrating on nothing else but that, letting the burning sensation slip back and away. I can feel the permeating sense of cold, the hunger nipping at my belly, but I try to ignore it, all of it. I just feel his heart beat, alive in my hands, and focus on nothing but his heartbeat and positive thoughts, letting my unrelenting confidence in him finally serve its purpose. _He cares about me. I matter to him. He will get me out of here. He will._ Ba-dum, Ba-dum, Ba-dum, Ba-dum… “Tori?”

                I look up to see Hieronymous kneeling down in front of me, and I can’t help myself. I jump up and hug him tightly, burying my face in his chest. “Shh, shh, silly girl,” he says as I cry into his chest, my hands trembling as I grasp onto his robes. I can feel him run his hand through my hair, and at one point I think he kisses the top of my head, but I’m not sure. I know he’s the one who put me down there, but it just feels so warm and comfortable with his arms around me, and I don’t want him to ever pull away. _He did come through for me. I knew he would._

                “How long did you leave me in there?” I mumble into his robes.

                “Longer than I should have,” he admits, and I feel a sinking sense of disappointment.

                “Will you do that again?” I tremble. “If I disobey you?”

                He sighs, and pulls me away from him so he can look at me. “No, sweet girl, you don’t have to _obey_ me. I’m trying to protect you.” He glances away. “Unfortunately I seem to have a strange way of showing it.”

                “Will you please tell me what’s happening to me?” I mumble. “I’m not sure if I know what’s real or not anymore.” Had he really threatened to lock me in the dungeons before, or was it just something my mind made up under the stress? I honestly can’t be sure right now.

                He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek, and I try not to lean into his touch. “Unfortunately, I can’t,” he says softly. “Believe me, I want to. But I can’t.” I sigh and look away from him, but he forces my eyes back to meet his face, his fingers tilting my chin up towards him. “But please believe that I’m doing everything in my power to protect you. Do you trust me?”

                I take advantage of our closeness to reach up and put my hand on his chest. He stiffens at my touch, but doesn’t pull away. I move my fingers up, slowly, searching, until I feel it. A small bump under his robes, a small hard stone. He _is_ wearing it. I look back up and meet his eyes. “I trust you.”           

                Our lips are only inches apart. I feel as though a current was flowing between us, pulling us closer together. He puts his hands on both my shoulders, running them down my arms. I shudder under his touch, inching a bit closer, moving my body closer to his. I can feel his breath on my face, warm and intoxicating.

                “I can’t do this,” he whispers as his lips move closer to mine.

                “You can.” His bottom lip brushes against my upper lip.

                “I shouldn’t.” Our lips are touching.

                “You should.”

                Suddenly he puts a hand on either side of my head and pulls me in, kissing me deeply. Our tongues intertwine as I throw my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as I run my hands through his hair and along his upper back. His arms wrap around me and for a minute it feels so familiar, an _itching_ sense of familiar, but I focus on his heartbeat, although I can’t tell if it’s coming from the stone or from his chest or from where but we’re kissing, really kissing, and I can feel the warm skin of his neck under my hands as I let out a small moan-

                -and that’s when he pulls away.

                _Dammit._

“We can’t,” he breathes, his eyes still shut. “Not here.”

                I let out another small moan as my body brushes against his, desperate for more contact, and he pulls away. My breath is heavy in my chest and my lips are tingling with the sensation. For a first kiss, that wasn’t too bad.

                He lets out a breath and looks at me, and for a moment I think he’s angry as he stands up. “Don’t pull away from me,” I whisper, and he blinks before his gaze softens. Suddenly, a thought runs through my head. An idea. It feels like a lightbulb had suddenly been switched on in my brain as I rapidly formulate a plan in my head. I’m excited, and I’m not sure if it’s because it’s the first step on the path to getting the answers that I need, or if it’s doing what is required to get those answers that thrills me more.

                “Do you want me, Hieronymous?” I ask. I take a step towards him, and for a moment he looks unbalanced as he takes a step back.

                “Tori-“

                “Do you want me?” I take another step towards him, and he stumbles backwards into a chair that’s behind him. _Perfect_. I sit down on top of him, straddling him, crossing my arms behind his neck.  

                “Tori, stop,” he says as firmly as he can, but I pretend not to hear as I start to kiss his neck, slowly, tenderly, grinding my hips into his.

                “Do you want me?” I ask. “Hieronymous, do you want me?” I keep asking him, in between kisses, in between the gentle, sensual roll of my hips. He has one hand buried in the back of my hair now, and I can feel his resolve weakening beneath me as he sits with his eyes shut, focusing on the sensation.

                “Yes,” he grows suddenly, as if he literally cannot take anymore, and I almost gasp in surprise as he pulls my mouth onto his, kissing me intensely. I can feel his hands under my robes, running against the soft, bare skin of my back. I moan as he kisses me frantically, desperately, pulling me closer to him. It feels so, so good and for a moment I forget that this was supposed to be step one of my big master plan to figuring everything out. Because this doesn’t feel like step one. This doesn’t feel like a plan. This feels like something else entirely. I remember how much I wanted him in my dream. I remember how I felt about him when he had hugged me. How I had felt so safe and comfortable with him over Christmas break. How, even in the dungeons, I refused to give up my blind faith in him. I think about what Virginia had said about the stone, that it could only be activated by my love for him. _Was that just a story, or do I really, actually love him?_

I think I might, but right now I’m not sure if this is love or lust or some delicious combination of the two. It’s not just the final admission that I want him; it’s the confirmation that he wants me just as badly. He doesn’t have to use words. I can tell by how tightly he grips me, how fervent and passionate his kisses are, how desperate he seems to taste every inch of me…

                I make small noises of pleasure as I kiss the length of his jawline, kissing the tender area between his jaw and his neck, and he makes a noise that I could never have imagined him making. It was a stifled groan, almost a whine, weak and vulnerable. I pause, trying to register it, and that’s when he says the words that I had been dreading to hear since he had first kissed me. “Tori, we should stop.”

                “No.” I kiss him again, sealing his mouth with my own to prevent him from talking as I bury my hands in his hair, holding him to me, pressing my chest against his. I can feel him wanting me, and I want him back, terribly, and I can feel the sharp ache of desire that I felt in my dream come rushing back to me. No, he’s right, we need to stop, because things can’t go any further here, in the middle of the detention room. Even if I want to. Even if he wants to.

                I pull away from him slowly, my forehead resting against his, as we rake in rapid, shallow breaths. He looks at me as he cups my cheek in one hand, rubbing the length of my lower lip with the pad of his thumb. We look at each other, each daring the other to speak first.

                “I don’t want to stop,” I say softly, puckering my lips to kiss the tip of his finger.

                He chuckles and looks away, but only for a second. “I know. I don’t either.”

                “Then,” I say softly. “We don’t have to. You have a room…” Honestly, I didn’t know if I needed to push my plan _that_ far, but I said it more to gauge his reaction than anything else. I think. I’m pretty sure. Truthfully, I didn’t even really want to take it any further than it was right here. Right now I feel like I could just lie in his bed and kiss him all night and I would be happy.

                “Tori,” he warns, and I laugh.

                “Yeah, I know,” I say. He’s running his fingertips down my cheek now, like he almost can’t believe I’m real, and for a moment I dare myself to believe that he really is in love with me, even if he probably wouldn’t admit that to himself. There’s just something in the way he’s looking at me, a strange sense of awe that I had never seen anyone look at me with, ever.

                Suddenly, I feel a sharp pang of guilt inside of me. I didn’t kiss him simply because I liked him. I had other motives too, secret motives, and it hurt to know that I was taking advantage of his feelings for me, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t have a choice. Something was going on here, something was happening to me, and I needed to figure out was it was. And, considering his predisposition to keeping things from me, it would have to be done without his help. But he was also the only one who knew any real answers, and so I would have to be prepared to do whatever it took to draw them out of him.

                “Hieronymous, talk to me,” I say quietly. I pout and run my fingers under his chin. I can see the effect it has on him as he bites his lip and lets out a long breath.

                “I think you may be in grave danger,” he says eventually. “I think I might be too, for that matter.”

                “All the more reason we should stick together.”

                He just shakes his head. “It may be dangerous for us to be together.” He looks away uncertainly.

                “Tell me,” I say softly. “Maybe I can help.” He doesn’t look at me. “Or will telling me put me in more danger?” He sighs and looks at me again, nodding his head slowly. “Okay,” I say softly, running my lips against his cheek. “So I’m just supposed to trust you to save the day and protect us both?”

                He smiles softly. “Something like that.”

                “Guess I just have to trust you then.” I try to give him one last kiss, but I can feel him flinch involuntarily beneath me. I put my hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes, down to his lips, before my eyes flick up towards his again, asking for permission. He leans in slowly, and I kiss him, softly, deeply, pulling his lower lip out gently as I pull away. “Have a good night, Hieronymous.”

                He breathes out my name slowly, his eyes flicking back to mine, as I step up and away from him. Neither of us makes a move to leave the room, but we can’t stay in here forever. As I’m about to head for the door, Hieronymous grabs my hand suddenly and lifts it to his mouth, kissing the back of my fingers the way Tommy had before. Our eyes meet and I smirk at him, enjoying the little bubble of excitement that rises in my chest. _Okay, I give in. I’m his. I want to be his._

The hall outside the room is dark, but as I open the door, I can see the shadow of a person slumped against the wall. “Tommy?” I ask in confusion. I can hear Professor Grabiner breathe out a long exasperated sigh from behind me.

                Tommy stirs as I say his name, then sits up suddenly. “Tori!” he exclaims. “You’ve been in there forever. What did that monster do to you?”

                I blush as I realize that Professor Grabiner is standing directly behind me now. “Come on,” I say quickly, grabbing Tommy’s hand and pulling him to his feet. Tommy doesn’t let go of my hand, just tangles his fingers with mine until our palms are flat against each other. I want to push him away, I want him to tell him to let go, but I can’t. If I do, then he might suspect something. It’s better to just play it cool, pretend nothing’s changed. He turns around to glare at Professor Grabiner, who looks way more composed than I feel right now.

                “You seem out of breath,” Tommy says as we walk down the hallway, back to the dorms. “You okay?”

                “Oh yeah, you know, tons of fun running around a dungeon for hours,” I say. Just as we’re about to turn the corner, I turn around and wink back at Hieronymous. We’re far enough away that I can’t really make out his expression as he stares after us, but the important thing is that Tommy doesn’t see it. As we’re walking back to the room, Tommy is talking to me, but I don’t listen to a word he’s saying. I’m too caught up in what had just happened. Had I really just kissed Hieronymous? Had I really just made out with a teacher? Or snogged, as he would say? It fills me with a rush of giddy excitement, and I try not to let it show.

                As we get back to my room, Tommy turns to me. “You sure you’re okay?”

                “Just tired,” I say, squeezing his hand again. “But thanks for looking out for me, Tommy.”

                I make my way quietly back to my bed, past a sleeping Virginia and Ellen. Despite everything that happened today, I grin into my pillow like a silly schoolgirl. Something big had just happened, the first step on the path to answers had been revealed, and yet, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. Had I been kissing him because I wanted to, or was I simply playing him so that I could get answers? It was both, I didn’t have to think long and hard to figure that out, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel bad about it. What was so terrible that he couldn’t tell me about it, if both of our lives were in such mortal peril?

                I close my eyes and focus on his heartbeat as I drift off to sleep, unsurprised by how quickly it comes to me. If he wanted to play the big hero and try to save the day, that was fine by me. I was going to save both him and myself in half the time. I snuggle down into my pillow. Hopefully Virginia wouldn’t oversleep too much tomorrow morning. I had ammunition, now I just needed to be sure that I was pointing it in the right direction.


	30. Chapter 30

                “Hey, I got a question,” I say as I roll over in bed. I spent the whole night with the stone clenched tightly in my fist, letting the steady pulse of his heart beat lull me to sleep. I don’t know when it stopped being creepy and started being somewhat romantic, but maybe our encounter last night had changed things more than I thought.

                “Can it wait ‘til I wake up first?” Virginia asks, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Ellen was gone, probably off to get breakfast with Donald or something, and it was just the two of us alone in the room. I don’t want to push her too quickly, but at the same time, I am getting ridiculously impatient. I want to have this case cracked and solved by Monday morning so I have time to prepare my victory speech before I run to Hieronymous Monday night and tell him that I figured out everything on my own, without his help.

                “I mean, I guess it can,” I say, trying to sound indifferent. “But it’s a pretty juicy piece of gossip.”

                “I suppose I can be coerced before breakfast,” she says as she rolls over on her stomach to face me. “What’s your question?”

                “It’s about marriage,” I say, being as vague as possible to spark her interest.  

                “Wait, is someone getting married?” I smirk at her. “It’s not you, right?”

                “No, no,” I say quickly. “But I do have questions about magical marriages, and I was thinking that you were the perfect person to help me out, since you’re from a magical family and all.”

                She eyes me suspiciously. “And you’re sure it’s not you getting married?”

                “Virginia,” I say flatly, and she giggles.

                “Okay, okay, what’s up?”

                “Well, I know in like, non-magical families, people make vows,” I say. “To love, honor, and obey, right? Do they do that in magical families too?”

                “I think so,” Virginia said. “I’ve never actually been to a magical wedding to know for sure, but yeah, they probably do.”

                “Okay,” I sit up and hold my hands out in front of me. “So what if two people are married to each other and one person’s like, ‘hey, wash the dishes’ and the other person’s like, ‘no, I don’t want to,’ does that person lose their magic for breaking their vows? Since they’re not technically _obeying_?”

                “I don’t think it works like that,” Virginia says slowly. “I mean, vows are still vows, but obeying can have a lot of different meanings. It’s in the semantics, although now that you say it that way, I doubt they actually use the word obey in a lot of magical marriages for that reason. It seems like an unnecessary risk.”

                “Yeah, I see your point,” I say, then push the issue a little further anyway. “So you mean like, obeying can be considering someone’s opinion? You don’t have to _exactly_ do what they say, word for word, but you at least consider what they have to say?”

                “I guess so,” Virginia shrugs. “What’s with all the questions about obeying?”

                “Well, not obeying,” I shrug. “Just about vows and promises in general. I mean, I used to make promises all the time back at home. Like, if I promised my parents to do the laundry before they got home from work, and then I didn’t, would I lose my magic for that?”

                “I don’t know,” Virginia shrugs. “You could, I guess. It’s why we’re all very cautious around those types of words. We try not to use them if possible. It’s just better not to risk that stuff, you know? My parents kind of drilled that into us since we were kids.”

                “That’s what I was wondering…” I take a breath. _Here we go._ “Like, say, in married relationships, when you promise to enter into a union, you make vows of loyalty, so you implicitly kind of agree to the no-cheating thing, right?”  

                Virginia shrugs. “Are you involved with a married man, because I thought you were dating-?”

                “Just humor me,” I say quickly. “If, I don’t know, say a married guy kissed you, or had really strong feelings for you and acted on those feelings, would he be breaking his martial vows?”

                “Probably,” Virginia says. “I mean, I think so. It sounds weird when you put it that way, but magical unions are created and disbanded for all types of reasons, so it’s actually pretty easy to get married and divorced to prevent that kind of stuff from happening. Magical martial unions are really common, actually. One of my friends was actually married off to this older guy when she was fourteen because she promised to marry him as a joke, and didn’t realize that she had to go through with it until it was too late. They thought about ending the marriage after the year was up, but it turns out she really liked the guy.”

                “So what happened?” I ask. “Did they stay together?”

                “No, she left him for a guy her own age that she was starting to develop feelings for,” Virginia says with a laugh. “So she called off the marriage before she could risk breaking her vows, basically to prevent what you were just asking.”

                “Okay, but say two people are still actually married,” I say. “Like, if they are still in the union, their vows still apply, right? So if one of them cheats, that person would lose their magic and have their memory wiped, right?”  

                “Yeah, I guess,” Virginia says. “I mean, I don’t know if just _kissing_ would be enough to do it, but I don’t know who would be stupid enough to risk it and find out.” She looks at me. “So what does this have to do with _anything_? What’s the juicy gossip?”

                “It’s uh, nothing,” I say quickly. “Just tricked you into helping me with a bit of homework.” I wink at her as I start to throw on my robes.

                “For what class?” Virginia asks, but I’m already halfway out the door.  

                I hear Virginia’s voice in my head. _I don’t know if just_ kissing _would be enough to do it, but I don’t know who would be stupid enough to risk it and find out._ Professor Grabiner was not a stupid person. He wouldn’t risk his magic and his memories just to kiss me, no matter how much he cared for me. He had told me directly that he was married, so why would he kiss me? Why? It didn’t make any sense. Aside from Professor Grabiner, there was only one other person who I knew might know the answer, but there was no way she would tell me anything directly. This one was going to take a great deal of subterfuge.

                I knock on Minnie’s door, but when no one answers, I head up to the library. Minnie’s there, reading quietly to herself at a table pushed up against one of the windows. As I start to approach, she looks up and sees me. Her eyes go wide and her whole body stiffens, like a deer caught in headlights.

                “I just want to apologize,” I say quickly, holding up my hands. “For what happened last week.” She looks at me skeptically, like a mouse that’s not sure whether to take the cheese or run. “Prof- Hieronymous explained everything.” She stares at me dubiously. “We spent last night… _catching up._ ” I wink at her and recall the kiss, letting a blush take over my face. _It has to look good, or she’s not going to buy it._ “He and I…we, you know…” I shuffle my feet awkwardly, pretending it’s as uncomfortable as possible for me to say.

                “Oh,” Minnie says, looking surprised. “They- he didn’t tell me. But I mean, if it happened last night…” Her voice trails off. “But that’s good news.”

                “Yeah,” I say, scratching behind my ear nervously. “I’m just, not sure what to do about it next. With everything going on, I’m just not sure how he and I can really _be_ together, you know?” I frown at her, biting my lip, and I think she believes me.

                “Well, if you’re looking for my advice,” Minnie says. “I think you should-“ She stops suddenly, as if she’s suddenly remembering where she is. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’m supposed to say anything yet. They told me to wait and clear things with them before talking about it so I don’t, well, you know.” She tugs nervously at a strand of hair.

                “Right,” I say quickly. “Right, Hieronymous mentioned that. I’m so sorry about everything, Minnie. Like, I was out of line last week and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know everything then. But now that he’s filled me in, I know that you helped me out with a lot and so, you know, thanks.”

                “You’re welcome,” she says happily. “I’m just glad it looks like everything worked out in the end. We were all really worried about you, but I knew you could pull through. And I’m glad, for the both of you. I was hoping that you two would…” She smiles at me again. “You know. I’m glad it worked out.”

                “Thanks,” I say. “I’ll make sure not to talk to you until, you know, it’s all sorted out. I don’t want to get you in any sort of trouble.”

                “Thanks,” she echoes, and she looks relieved.

                I turn around quickly and leave the library. As soon as the doors shut behind me, the fake smile I had plastered on my face immediately drops into a scowl. Minnie knows something, that was for damn certain. Whatever is going on with me, she’s been in on it from the beginning, and “they” don’t want her to say. _Did they really make her vow not to say anything to me? Is what is happening to me so serious that they would threaten her with losing her magic if she told me?_ But who was ‘they?’ Mrs. Grabiner? Another teacher? Another student? Professor Potsdam? _How far up did this go?_

                I take a deep breath. There’s only one other person I know for sure who knows the answers. He hadn’t been willing to talk much before, but perhaps…

I reach up and stroke my cheek lightly with my fingertips, the way he had done last night. I still can’t shake the way he had been looking at me, like I was a ghost that could slip away at any moment if he wasn’t touching me.

                …perhaps he could be persuaded.


	31. Chapter 31

                I sit in Professor Grabiner’s class on Monday for a multitude of reasons, most of which to reinforce the idea that we could make out on Saturday night and I could still hold up appearances and make it look like nothing had changed between us two days later. At least, that’s what I wanted him to think I was here for. I had to make sure to do this quickly, before Minnie had time to tip him off. After class, I pack up my things slowly, trying to figure out how to approach him, when he surprises me by coming over to me first.

                “Come visit me this afternoon,” he says. He’s not looking at me. Instead he’s watching the door, making sure no one sees this, and I take the opportunity to let the back of my hand brush against his as I gather up my books.

                “Here?” I ask coyly. “For our private study lessons?”

                He turns to face me. “You know where.” I bite my lip and smirk at him, and I’m almost surprised to see him return it.

                “Okay then,” I say quickly. “See you this afternoon, _Professor_.”

                I return to my room and try to do some homework, but I can’t focus. Obviously Saturday night had changed things for him, and they had for me too, but in a totally different way. I couldn’t worry about my silly infatuation with him any longer. Something serious was going on, and although I wasn’t entirely sure our feelings for each other weren’t a part of it, I had to focus on the mission. I had one goal: seduce him, and get him to drop his guard long enough to let something slip. It didn’t have to be much. Even figuring out just who else knew what was going on with me could prove tremendously useful.

                I try to run through a list of possible suspects in my head. There was probably someone else higher up pulling the strings, so it probably wasn’t another student, although anything was possible. Was it Jason? I consider this a moment. He had encouraged me to stay away from Hieronymous, at first, but then he did send me to detention… _immediately after I had refused to see Hieronymous when Minnie asked_. I blink. I can’t believe I couldn’t have put two and two together sooner. Hieronymous and Jason were working together, with Minnie, to…

                And that was where I drew a blank. Hieronymous and Jason and Minnie were all working together to keep me…away from something? Away from the truth? Well, that was for damn sure, but what could have happened to me that they didn’t want me to remember?

                I hesitate for a moment. I think I have a general direction of where this is going, but I don’t want to jump to the wrong conclusion, or worse, the right one, here. I need to see Hieronymous. I feel like the wheels are in motion, and it’s only a matter of time before I figure this out.

                It’s only about one in the afternoon, but it is still _after noon_ as I rush towards his door. I knock once, and he opens it immediately, as if he had been waiting for me. “Hey,” I say, smiling up at him.

                “Hey,” he responds quietly as he shuts the door behind me. “How are you?”

                “I’m,” I shrug. “Good.”

                I look him up and down and he runs his hands up and down my arms, leaning forward to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck, letting his hips pin me to the door, as I push myself against him. He kisses me back for a moment, and I start to get lost in him again when suddenly his hands come out of nowhere, pinning my shoulders to the door painfully as he pulls away.

                “What did you say to Ms. Cochran?” he asks, his voice low and angry.

                “What?” I gasp.

                “What did you say to her?”

                “Nothing,” I struggle in his grip. “I apologized for last week. You’re hurting me.”

                “And did you also happen to mention that I said certain things to you?”

                I let my head fall as I laugh, and he releases me, like he’s disgusted with me. Really, it should be the other way around. “Oh, come to my room this afternoon, Tori,” I mock him. “You played me and I fell for it. You didn’t want me to come here today to…” I let my voice drift off. “You wanted me to come here to yell at me about risking her magic. You wanted me to come here to see just how much I’ve figured out.” 

                “I’ve been playing you?” he demands. “Or has it been the other way around? I asked you to leave it alone. I asked you to trust me. Obviously that is something-“

                “My life is in danger,” I shout at him. “And yours. Do you really think I can just sit back and let that happen? If I don’t know things, I could end up killing both of us.” He makes a face, as if I don’t know how true that statement is.

                “Do you know how difficult it’s been?” I ask. “To not know what’s real and not real? Last Saturday in the dungeons, I could’ve sworn you threatened to leave me down there forever. I remember something about an ear of corn and kindness. I remember when Potdsam asked me about you for Secret Santa and I heard your voice saying that you like chamber music and wine. Chamber music and wine. I don’t know that, how could I know that? But I hear your voice saying it, and I’m not sure when you told me or how I know.” His jaw is set, but he looks like he’s at least listening to me this time. “I’m not sure if these are real memories or fake ones or if I’m just totally losing my mind. So don’t tell me to just sit there and just be patient because I don’t want to. I want to do something. I want to stop it.”

                “The only way we can stop it is if you stop digging into this,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Give me more time. I can figure this out, and once I do I can help you.”

                “And that doesn’t make any sense,” I yell. “You are keeping _so much_ from me, and yet you ask me to trust you.” I shake my head. “You think I’m stupid.”

                He sighs. “What?”

                “The problem here is you’ve been underestimating me this entire time,” I say. “The problem is you still think I’m just a silly little school girl with a crush, right? Someone who needs to be watched over and protected. Like you think I can’t protect myself? Like I can’t piece this all together on my own?”

                I’m starting to get flashes of things now, the burning sensation in the back of my brain lingering, but I keep going. I feel like I’m finally getting closer to something, and I try to split myself between the chaos and the present. “You made Minnie swear not to say anything, and she didn’t. But you really think I didn’t know that there had to be a reason she was avoiding me all year? Or how you went to the Thanksgiving raffle without me?” I see a flash of him and I sitting in a restaurant, and I feel the sensation of a hot liquid burning my throat. _Chai._

                “You think I’m a child,” I continue. “You know, I asked around, about vows and oath-breaking. You’re supposed to be married, right? But why would you kiss me? Why would you kiss me and risk breaking your vows? You’re not stupid enough to risk your magic over me. So why would you do it?”

                “Tori-“ he starts, but I can’t read the expression on his face, I can’t even see him all that clearly. All of a sudden, I feel overwhelmed by sensation. I want him, I want to be with him, I would do anything for him, and yet …

                “After all this time, you still don’t get it,” I snap. “You still don’t get how I can feel something real for you, and I don’t understand why. Do you _know_ how much I care about you?” I pause as something else comes to me. I’ve stood here before, nervous but a little bit excited. _I don’t feel like having fun…which is why I thought of you._

                “We’ve kissed before,” I say. I need something specific, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. “The night of the May Day ball.”

                “How much are you remembering?” he asks. It was a stab in the dark, but that, that right there, that was confirmation. It’s real. These memories are real. For some reason, the book from the library comes back to me and I can’t believe how unbelievably stupid I’ve been. Of course these memories are real. Someone’s been shielding them from me. But who? But why? That’s probably been shielded too, of course, but if I’m strong enough, maybe I can see through it. I need to keep looking.

                He’s standing only a few feet in front of me, but he’s so blurry as all these flashes race across my vision. I’m trying to look for who did this to me, but all I’m getting are flashes of me and Hieronymous. “All summer,” I murmur. “I was here with you all summer. Which is why you were so upset when I didn’t-“

                “Tori, stop,” he warns, reaching out and grabbing my arm. “Please, Tori, stop this. Please, focus.”

                But I can’t focus, because it all makes sense now. Just like the book said, when your memory is wiped or shielded, you don’t lose your impressions or your feelings. That’s why I’ve felt so connected to him this entire time, despite yelling at him and claiming to hate him. A sudden realization crashes over me like a wave of ice water. This means I really do love him. _Shit._  

                “I’m going to go deeper,” I tell him. “I’m going to try to figure out who did this, but it’s hard. There’s so much here. But I don’t understand. Why me? Why erase all my memories of you?”

                I think he’s talking, maybe he’s screaming my name, but I can’t hear him now. He’s holding my arm, but for some reason he feels really far away. It feels like I’m starting to submerge myself underwater, slowly, my vision breaking up into fragments as it slips away from me. Instead, something else comes into focus. “I can feel you. I can feel how you feel about me. And you kissed me. You…” Something else sticks out, and I follow it down a long corridor. “I gave you my kindness and courage. You gave me your wisdom and protection.”

                _Holy shit._ “I’m Mrs. Grabiner,” I exclaim suddenly, and all the pieces click together. “I’m your wife.”

                Suddenly I’m aware that I’m sitting on the floor, but I don’t know how I got there. Hieronymous is kneeling over me and he’s yelling, hands on either side of my arms. I think he’s hurting me, or trying to hurt me, trying to snap me out of it, but it’s too late. I don’t feel anything.

                “I’m strong enough to do this,” I tell him. “We need to know who did this. I’m going to look deeper. I’m going to go in and I can pull myself back out. I can do this.” I hesitate as what Professor Potsdam said about people getting trapped in their own memories comes back to me. “But just in case I can’t, I, um, I love you, Hieronymous. I mean it.”

 I can’t hear him. I can’t even hear myself talk. I close my eyes and put my hands on either side of my head, trying to focus. “I need a name. Show me who did this to me. Show me. Show me. _Show me._ ”

                Suddenly I see a flash of purple and it feels as though someone smashed me in the back of the head with a tire iron as I slump to the floor.


	32. Chapter 32

                Tori Brown lay on Professor Grabiner’s bed, her eyes closed. She didn’t stir. She hadn’t stirred since she had passed out on the floor earlier that day. Her pulse was strong, and Professor Grabiner could still feel her heartbeat when he grabbed the stone around his neck, but she wouldn’t wake up. He had been able to snap her out of it before, and she had needed time to rest and recover, but this was different. Tori Brown was not a light sleeper. Before, she was always stirring and moving, whimpering and murmuring in her sleep. She was restless by day and restless by night, but it wasn’t showing now. Now she lay there, perfectly still, her breathing too shallow and rhythmic for it to be normal. It looked as though she had simply got up and crawled out of her body, leaving a vacant, breathing shell behind.

                Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Professor Grabiner got up from the bedside to open it. Professor Potsdam walked through the doorway, looking more serious than usual. “She remembered?” she asks immediately.

                “She remembered everything,” he sighs as he sits down again, picking up on one her hands between both of his. “She hasn’t woken up since.”

                “What did you tell her?” Potsdam asks, checking Tori’s pulse for herself.

                He frowns. “Surprisingly? Nothing.” Potsdam looks at him skeptically. “I kissed her. I didn’t realize that that would let her piece everything together for herself. She went to Ms. Cochran for answers. She confirmed something was going on, but didn’t reveal any specifics. I confronted her about it and she remembered everything.”

                “Do you still have your magic?” Potsdam asks, and he nods. He held out his hand and let a small orb of light come out of his palm effortlessly. That had been his first spell as a child. It was different for wildseeds. They were already older when they came to Iris and learned magic, so their first real spell was probably one of classroom instruction. It was different for magical children; their first spell was basically akin to their first word.

                “Well,” Potsdam sighs. “It means we can probably revive her.”

                “Probably?” he echoes. “I’ve tried _everything_. It’s different this time, she’s not even moving.”

                “I’ve been in contact with some of the leading experts on memory spells,” she tells him. “Just in case this happened.”

                There’s something in her tone that Hieronymous picks up on. “In case?” he asks, his voice getting louder. “What do you mean, in case? Did you know that she was going to figure this out?”

                “As you said, Tori’s a smart girl. She figured it out herself, as I quite assumed she would.” She shakes her head. “It’s not _that_ hard to piece together, especially considering how she feels about you.” He looks away from her, despondent. “Out with it.”

                “It’s nothing,” he says, his lips set firmly in place.

                “Tell me before I draw it out of you.” He looks at her and can tell she’s serious. Tori’s life is in danger now, every detail counted.

                “She told me she loved me,” he sucks in a breath. “I don’t know if she remembered every single memory, but she remembered how she felt. About me.”

                Potsdam lets out a pained laugh. “And you thought this marriage was a bad idea.”

                “Yes, I had planned to celebrate our one-year anniversary with my wife completely unconscious and my life in jeopardy,” he says, his voice drenched in bitter sarcasm.

                “Well,” she sighs. “I have an idea.”

                “Well?”

                “When did you kiss her? The kiss that led up to her trying to piece things together?”

                “Is that relevant?”

                “When?”

                “Saturday night.” He sighs. Talking to Potsdam about his romantic exploits was not really something he wanted to do, ever, but in this case it was necessary. He hated that it was necessary.

                She looks at him seriously, letting him know she wasn’t going to say it twice. “We need to erase her memories from now up until that point.”

                “No,” he says automatically, jumping to his feet. “No, I’m not going to let you go jumping in there and start erasing things. Her mind’s already screwed up enough as it is.”

                Potsdam is patient, assuming this would be his reaction. “I can appreciate how you feel,” she says tenderly. “But this is important. If this kiss was the trigger that led her to go searching for answers, erasing that may buy us more time to figure out how to save her.”

                “Before she figures things out again,” he mutters. “Can’t you just take down the shields completely?”

                “You know that’s dangerous, Hieronymous,” she snaps. “This is our only option. If she forgets what she remembered today, it could wake her up.”

                “Or she could not wake up at all,” he argues. “What if she forgets everything that was shielded too?”

                “Oh, come now,” she sighs. “Are you more afraid of her not waking up at all or forgetting that she loves you? I thought you’d come to realize by now that she obviously isn’t going to forget how she feels about you, even if we do wipe her mind.”

                “That is not my concern,” he snaps. “I’m trying to save her life.”

                “And I’m trying to save yours,” she snaps back, pulling back her sleeves. “And hers, and your whole tragic fairytale romance.” She shakes her head, leaning over Tori. “I think this will work.”

                “Wait, wait,” he says quickly. “How much are you erasing?”

                She sighs, clearly frustrated. “Today. Yesterday. Saturday night.”

                “Wiping it all clean?” he asks. “What will you put there?”

                “Nothing,” she says. “I don’t want to overload her too much. Her brain will fill in the gaps. Otherwise you’ll have to think of something to tell her if she can’t remember anything else.”

                “That my punishment in detention was so severe that I knocked her out for three days?”

                “There you go.”

                “And then she’s back to hating me,” he says bitterly and she stops, craning her neck up to look at him.

                “I can’t tell if you’re being deliberately obtuse,” she begins. “But if she kissed you _after_ you left her in a dungeon for hours on end, I don’t think she will hate you for this.” He grits his teeth. “I know you’re concerned about her, and yourself, but you need to let me do this.”

                “Okay,” he huffs. “Today, yesterday, and Saturday night. That’s all you’re erasing?”

                “Yes.”

                “And nothing else?”

                “No.”

                “Swear it to me.”

                She stares at him for a moment. “I think you more than anyone should know the danger of making vows. I might find other interesting things in there, such as the package your father sent her for Christmas. It’s probably better if she doesn’t remember that you’re married right now. Go wait outside. I think it’ll be easier for you.”

                “I want to-“

                “Out,” she says firmly. “I’m not going to be able to concentrate with you hovering over her, although your concern is very romantic.”

                The last comment did the trick, as he went to the door and shut it behind him. He sighed to himself, looking out over the balcony. This was his fault, all of it. Because he had trapped that Manus, she had put herself in danger to save his life. Then she had been forced to marry him to save her own life, and although it was quite clear now that that wasn’t quite as terrible as either of them had first imagined, her life was now in danger. Would this be the second time a woman that he cared for met her demise because of him? He sighed, squeezing the balcony railing with both hands. Maybe this proved it. Maybe this was the wake-up call he needed, that he was better off alone. He was obviously cursed in some way. Anyone that got near him, anyone who loved him, wound up dead. He had already made that mistake once. He couldn’t risk it a second time. Not with her. Not with Tori. She was too young and had too much of her life ahead of her. He wanted her, but he had to be the adult here. It was wrong. It was wrong and selfish. She would get over him in time, and lead a long and happy life without him.

                Potsdam came out sooner than expected. “I think it took,” she says after a minute. “Now we just need to see when she wakes up.”

                “Oh good,” he replies tersely. “More she can’t remember.”

                “She’ll remember the rest of it, eventually,” Potsdam sighs. “In the meantime, no more snogging, you two.” He glares at her. “But you need to stay close to her.”

                “Stay close to her?” he repeats incredulously. He had just decided to stay as far away from her as possible. “Staying close to her-“

                “If you don’t, she’s going to feel something for you anyway,” Potsdam says. “And then she’s going to try to figure out why she has such strong feelings for someone who just knocked her unconscious for three days.” He rolls his eyes. “Give her enough to keep her interested, but don’t be so explicit with your feelings. If you can keep her looking forward to the next time she spends with you, she won’t try as hard to work backwards into the past. Just be yourself…well, a more decent version of yourself, at any rate.”

                He curls his upper lip into a snarl. “You women are so _bloody_ complicated.”

                “Says the man who still doesn’t believe he can be loved,” she retorts. He glares at her, but it’s more out of habit than malice. She knew what he was thinking; she didn’t have to use magic for that. “She’s going to be fine, Hieronymous. She’s not going to end up like Violet.”

                “Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t say her name.”

                Potsdam just shakes her head. “I’m not having this argument again. You need to figure out who means more to you, a girl that died twelve years ago, or your wife, who’s lying in your bed as we speak.”

                “It’s not that simple,” he starts.

                “Well, if you really think about it, you might just find that it is,” Potsdam retorts. “Let me know when she wakes up.” She snaps her fingers and teleports away.


	33. Chapter 33

                That afternoon, Tori had stayed as still as ever, but fortunately as the hours passed by, it looked like Professor Potsdam’s idea had worked. Tori had stirred some, restlessly rolled onto her side, and he had at first thought that she might wake up, but she seemed merely to be dreaming. Professor Grabiner had put the book he had been reading down, then, and seemed content to merely stroke her arm and submerge himself into his own thoughts. Her skin was warmer now, that was surely a good sign, and she occasionally made noises to indicate that she was sleeping.

                Sometime in the late hours of the night, she had started whimpering, turning restlessly, this way and that. “Tori,” he had whispered, brushing the bangs off her forehead. “Tori, what’s wrong?”

                “Hieronymous.” It had taken him a minute to register that she had said his own name. It reached his ears in a soft moan, but not in a good way. She seemed upset, her brow furrowed, and she moved her arms restlessly as if she was struggling against something. “No, please, Hieronymous, please I-“

                “I’m here, Tori,” he whispered gently in her ear, brushing her hair back. “Shh, Tori, I’m here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He had reached forward and placed a delicate kiss against her lips, and he felt a sudden pang in his chest when he realized this may be the last kiss he would ever give her, and it was completely one-sided. He thought about how they had kissed in the detention room, both of them aching with desire and longing, but that seemed like it had happened years ago. Tori rolled back into the pillows with a small, content smile on her face, and was quiet. Somehow, that made him hurt even worse.

                Even if she woke up with her memories back tomorrow, he was going to have to let her go eventually. The longer he drew this out, the more he would hurt her in the end. There was no other way to go about it. As soon as her memories came back, he would have to end this, once and for all. The longer they stayed together, the more time she would have to convince him to stay with her. He was a weak person, and a selfish person, and he knew he wouldn’t take much convincing, which is why he had to do end things as fast as possible, while his resolve still held steady.

                He grabbed her hand suddenly, and held it between both of his, pressing it to his forehead. His caring for her, his affection, was starting to border on something _more_ , and he suddenly wanted her, more than he had wanted anything in the past ten years of his life. But it wouldn’t be fair to force her to stay with him. She would eventually find someone her own age that she was interested in, and yet she would stay with him, due to a sense of duty and obligation, because that’s just who she was, loyal to the end.

                He had come to this school with a purpose, to protect children from making foolish, permanent mistakes. And now he was being tested, truly, in the worst way possible. But he had to remain strong, for her. He had to just keep telling himself that he was doing the right thing by letting her go. He had to keep thinking about Violet, because in truth, he hadn’t really thought about her all that much in the past few months, not with everything else that had been going on. He had stopped just short of making it an official vow, but he had made a silent promise with himself that he could never be with anyone else again after he lost her. He hadn’t, all those years ago, realized that he ever could feel something else for anyone again. And now he did. It had taken him over twelve years, but he did. And now she was suffering, just like Violet had suffered, and if he didn’t do something, she would die, just like Violet had died. And he couldn’t be responsible for that. He wouldn’t be responsible for that.

                “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, but he wasn’t really sure why he had said it, or who he was apologizing to. Was he apologizing to Violet? To Tori? Or himself?

\---

                My eyes blink open, and for a moment I’m not sure where I am. In the dim light, I can just make out a few features on the other side of the room: a wardrobe, a bookcase, a large desk filled with books and papers, and it doesn’t take me more than a minute to realize that I’m in Hieronymous’ room. Hieronymous himself is sleeping in a chair pulled up to the side of the bed, one of his hands draped over my arm.

                _But how did I get here?_ I remember being trapped in the dungeon…and that’s it. I remember being hungry, and cold, and wishing I could get out, but I don’t remember actually _getting_ out. There’s nothing else there, just big fat nothing.

                “Hieronymous,” I whisper, nudging him lightly. I think I was mad at him before he put me in the dungeon, but that feels like it happened ages ago, like it happened to somebody else. I can’t even remember why I was mad at him now. “Hieronymous?” I stroke his palm with my fingers and he stirs.

                “Tori?” He blinks up at me sleepily in the dim light, and suddenly I realize I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sleepy before. He looks…cute. Unstressed, unworried, just content.

                “Hey, why am I here?” I ask softly.

                He sighs, like he’s trying to remember himself. “I made a mistake,” he says at length. “Trying to teleport you out of the dungeon. You hit your head.”

                I frown as I rub the side of my head. It _does_ ache some. “What time is it?”

                He blinks over at his clock. “I think you want to know what day it is.”

                “What?”

                “It’s Tuesday.”

                “Tuesday?” I repeat blankly. “You mean I’ve been here for three days?”

                “Professor Potsdam knows you’re here,” he says. “Please believe that I will be strictly reprimanded for my actions.”

                I frown and throw myself back into the pillow. “Serves you right – ow ow ow.” I grasp at my head as a pain jolts through it and down the side of my neck.

                “Are you okay?” he asks, jumping to his feet.

                “Yeah, just, head,” I mumble. I can feel his hand on my forehead and a calming magic washes over me.

                “Better?”

                “Much,” I sigh, as I snuggle back into the pillow. His bed is ridiculously soft and his pillow kind of smells like him. He smells kind of like the library when I’m alone in there at night, when all the antibacterial soap smell they use to wash the tables has faded away and the only thing that remains was the familiar scent of old books. It was oddly comforting, in a way. “Do you mind if I, uh, stay here for the night?” I ask. “I don’t feel like trudging my way back to my room just now.”

                “Sleep,” he says to me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. I close my eyes and relish the sensation of his hand against my skin, and he seems to notice as he pulls his hand away.

                “Will you stay?” I ask, gesturing to the chair.

                “It’s my room, I’m not going anywhere,” he says. I look at him. It doesn’t _look_ like he’s had a decent night’s sleep in three days. _Why am I here and not in the infirmary?_ Does the school even have an infirmary? I’ve never seen one. Even last year, when Virginia got sick, they brought her home. I guess with everyone knowing green magic, it’s not really necessary to have an infirmary for just minor bumps and bruises.

                I snort and snuggle into the pillow. I intertwine one hand with his and pull the stone out from under my shirt, wrapping my fingers around it. I sneak a peek at him to realize that he’s watching me closely.

                “Do you have one of these?” I ask softly. “For me?”

                He hesitates for a moment, and he seems to wrestle with himself before he answers. “No.”

                I smile as I close my eyes. “You’re such a terrible liar.” I feel his hand twitch around mine. He makes a small noise of protest in the back of his throat, but there’s nothing he can say. I called his bluff. He’s probably wearing it right now.

                I open one eye to see him nervously smoothing down his robes in front of his chest, as if to make sure it’s safely tucked away where I can’t see it. I make sure to shut my eyes before he looks at me again.

                _Knew it._

                When I open my eyes the next morning, I immediately realize he’s not sitting beside the bed. He’s sitting on his desk, going through a stack of papers. I ease myself slowly back down onto the pillows, watching him. His holds two papers up in his hands at a time and his eyes flick back and forth between them, his tongue jutting out to wet his bottom lip every so often. I smile softly, knowing that he doesn’t know I’m watching makes this all the more…

                He looks up at me. _Crap._

                I squint my eyes shut and throw myself back into the pillows, but I can’t hide the smile creeping over my face. “I know you’re awake,” he says at length, and I open my eyes. He hasn’t moved from his paperwork.

                “What are you doing?” I ask.

                “Grading homework,” he replies.

                “Two at a time?”             

                “The less time I have to put up with their drivel…” he murmurs, before setting both papers down. “You should run along. Professor Potsdam would like me to pass along the message that you are not required to attend classes this week as you recover; however, if you feel up to it, you are more than welcome to return as soon as you feel you are able.”

                “I guess,” I shrug. “So is that all that happened to me? I just hit my head?”

                He sighs. “I screwed up a teleportation spell.”

                “You screwed up?” I ask suspiciously. He had teleported people in and out of dungeons probably millions of times, but somehow this time he just screwed up? I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t.

                “As terrifying as that notion is, I do seem to be capable of it,” he replies. “I suppose this is the part where I should ask for forgiveness?”

                “I suppose then you have it,” I reply. An odd look passes over his face. “Look, I mean, that’s a pretty shitty thing you did, leaving me in a dungeon. And I remember being mad at you before that, but lucky for you I can’t remember why now. And-“ I feel a weird sensation rush over me, and I almost feel a heat rise to my cheeks, but it’s so faint I’m not sure if it’s really there at all. “And I mean, I guess you did do a good job taking care of me for three days, so I suppose I should at least thank you for that.” I feel like there _should_ be something else, but there’s nothing there. Nothing I can think of right now, at any rate.

                “I don’t believe you’re obligated to be thankful when I am the one who put you in this situation in the first place.”

                “Well, maybe I’m just a nice person,” I reply. We look at each other for what seems like minutes.

                “You should get some breakfast,” he says. “You haven’t eaten in at least three days. You should eat something.”

                “Weird, I don’t feel hungry.” I meant to say this casually, but for some reason it comes out almost bitter, suspicious. “Sorry, I don’t know, I guess you’re right. I’ll get out of your hair.”

                “Wait,” he says, and I stop with my hand on the doorknob. “As repayment for my mistake, I do feel as though I am indebted to you.”

                “You owe me a favor?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. I’m about to tell him that it isn’t necessary, when I change my mind. There was no way of knowing if that would prove useful in the future. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

                A faint smile crosses his lips and I leave the room, heading back to my dorm. It looks like it’s already mid-morning, and I’ve already missed half of morning classes. Professor Potsdam said I could take the rest of the week off, but I don’t think I’m going to. Maybe I’ll go to the gym tomorrow. My body feels sore in an unused sort of way. Maybe he’s right and I haven’t moved my limbs for three days. It would certainly explain how I’m feeling. I don’t know, I just don’t believe him. I’m not sure why, exactly, I just don’t.

                But as I make my way back to my dorm, I’m surprised to see Ellen and Virginia still inside. “Hey, are you okay?” Ellen asks as I walk in. “Are you feeling any better?”

                “I guess,” I shrug. “I just hit my head, apparently.”

                “Yeah, but when you didn’t come back Saturday night, Professor Potsdam said something had happened to you. She called us, Donald and Tommy up to her office. We were all freaking out. We had no idea what was going on.”

                “Apparently you should never let Grabby teleport you out of a dungeon when he’s distracted, I guess.” I sit down on the edge of my bed. It’s not as soft as his, and for some reason, I’m hit with a bout of melancholy, immediately wishing I was back there.

                “You’ve been gone for three days, though,” Virginia says. “You must have really hit your head.”

                “I guess,” I say again, rubbing my temple. “Why are you two here? I thought you would be in class.”

                “Uh-“ Ellen and Virginia sit there, and for a moment they both look as confused as I feel. “I think we just wanted to stay back and make sure you didn’t need anything,” Ellen offers. Virginia nods her head in agreement, but doesn’t look too sure.

                “Thanks, but I’m fine,” I say quickly. “Really. Although, I could probably use a shower.” I make my way out of the room and head into the bathroom, getting into one of the stalls. I don’t really feel like a shower right now, but I want to be alone. I need to be alone. I throw my back against the tile wall and let the hot water pour over me as I put my face in my hands and let an overwhelming wave of sadness rush over me. My shoulders lurch as a sudden sob racks through me, and I put my hand over my mouth as I start to cry.

                I don’t know why I’m crying, I have no reason that I can think of to be this sad right now, but the tears keep coming. _What is going on with me?_ I don’t know what’s causing it, but I hunch over as I wail into my hands, thankful that it’s the middle of classes and no one is around to hear the stink I’m making. I eventually have to bite my knuckle to keep me from crying out, but even still, my shoulders are shaking as I sob. I do my best to suck in gulps of air, trying to calm myself down.

I don’t know what’s going on. I’m crying and carrying on like somebody _died_ and yet I can’t think of anything that happened. Was this a reaction to something that had happened to me down in the dungeons? I close my eyes and try to clear my thoughts, try to focus. _Why am I so upset?_ The first thing that immediately pops into my mind is the sensation of Hieronymous’ fingers intertwined with mine as I held his hand as I fell back to sleep last night.

                I let a tidal wave of emotion wash over me, and I can feel my heart pounding violently in my chest. I brush my wet hair out of my face, holding my head between both hands, as I try to calm myself down. But I can _feel_ it, I can feel everything, I can feel so much and-

                “I love you,” I whisper softly. I immediately stand up straight and dart my eyes around the stall to make sure no one had heard, but it didn’t sound like anyone had come into the bathroom. I wait a few minutes to confirm that I am, in fact, alone, before my thoughts turn themselves inwards again. I take a few more deep breaths before the tears begin to ease up, and the sobs become more and more infrequent. I try to get a handle on myself, on my emotions, and try to figure out why I was crying.

                The first thought in my head was the simplest explanation, and I decide to not overthink it any more than I had to. I had learned all about Occam’s Razor at my old school, about how the simplest explanation was usually the right one. Slowly, I try to break it down in my head.

                I am crying because I am sad. I am sad because I am in love. I am in love with Hieronymous. And Hieronymous…

                He was my teacher. I was his student. I remember how fast he pulled his hand away when I was savoring his touch.

                I was sad because Hieronymous would not love me back. I hesitate for a moment, as if I’m not sure if I’m about to cry again or not, but the tears don’t come. Instead all that remained in the place of my tears was a tingling sense of numbness that seemed to permeate me from the inside out. This wasn’t anything I didn’t know already, but at the same time, it didn’t seem like something I wanted to admit to myself either.

                I close my eyes and let the now luke-warm water pour over me. I loved Hieronymous, but he would not love me back. The only thing I could do was distract myself, push my attentions elsewhere, and hope that my affections would fade with time. I knew they wouldn’t, somehow, but maybe that was because I didn’t want them to.


	34. Chapter 34

                As weird as it seemed, things seemed to return to normal after that. I felt constantly burdened by a strange, nagging sensation that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but I just constantly felt subdued, like I was too tired to think much more about it. I decided to go to class on Wednesday after all, although it was green magic with Professor Potsdam. She told me before class that she was glad to see me up and about, but that I didn’t have to stay if I still felt ill. I just told her that if I had been lying in a bed for three days, I probably should get up and stretch my legs, and she didn’t seem compelled to argue with that.

                I didn’t see Professor Grabiner. I didn’t go to his classes. I suppose I should have, but we were now in the beginning of February, and with only a few months to go, I figured my blue magic would be more than sufficient to get me through final exams. I also stopped going to red magic classes. Not for any reason in particular, but after Jason had been the one to put me in detention, I just felt like I didn’t really want to be around him. So instead I focused on my weakest subject: black magic, the manipulation of physical objects. As simple as it sounded, there was a basic sort of science to it that I didn’t really understand, and so figured I should probably improve it before the next exam.

                I had also started to spend a lot more time with Tommy, going to the mall together pretty much every Saturday. We’d hold hands and go to the food court and the arcade together, but it just never felt right. It always felt wrong, like I was supposed to be experiencing these feelings with someone else. Spending time with Tommy was a distraction, but it wasn’t what I really wanted. I didn’t know how to tell him that, though, until one Friday evening when we were walking through the trails together. It was a bit warmer that day, and most of the snow had melted away, leaving scattered melting puddles every few feet.

                “Tori,” he said suddenly, interrupting our current flow of conversation. I wasn’t really sure what we were talking about; I hadn’t really ben paying attention. Wasn’t it red magic? For some reason, ever since I had hit my head, I had the worst time focusing. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was supposed to be concentrating on something else, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was. “Can we talk?”

                “Haven’t we been?” I tease, but quickly stop when a serious expression crosses his face. “What’s wrong?”

                He pulls me into a glade of trees that was hard to spot off the trail. He hesitates for a moment as he looks me up and down. Finally, his eyes settle on my face. “I really like you, Tori.”

                “I…” I hesitate. This is getting more and more complicated. I don’t want to lose Tommy’s friendship. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but at the same time, I can’t keep going on like this. I don’t like him that way. I tried, I really, really did, but my feelings for Professor Grabiner aside, I just wasn’t in any state to be in any sort of relationship right now. I decide that honesty is the best approach here. “I like you too. You’ve been a really good friend to me, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

                “Yeah, but, friends?” he asks. “We hold hands, we go to dinner together every night, we go to the arcade together every weekend…” He lets his voice trail off. “Don’t you think that means we’re something _more_?”

                “I don’t know.” I try to pull my hand out of his, but he’s holding it firmly.

                “I really like you, Tori,” he says again. “I think we should be together.”

                “Tommy,” I say nervously. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I just, I don’t feel like I can really be with anyone right now. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I’m not in it a hundred percent.”  

                “Then why did you tell everyone I gave you that necklace?” he asks.

                “I-“ I hesitate. I don’t have a good answer for that. “I didn’t _tell_ them that. They assumed that.”

                “And you didn’t correct them,” he observes. “So who did give it to you then?”

                “Professor Potsdam,” I say quickly. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of this excuse before, but it comes readily to me now. “As a Christmas gift. She stripped it of all its magical properties though, so no heartbeat. She said it reminded her of my hair and thought I could use some cheering up. It’s just a pretty necklace, that’s all. Nothing more.”

                “And you didn’t tell them this because-?”

                “Because it wasn’t important,” I shrug uncomfortably. “But Tommy-“

                He had been steadily moving closer towards me, but I didn’t realize just how close he was until I could suddenly feel his hand behind my neck. I strain against it. “We can be good together,” he says. “Just give it a chance. Just try it, okay? For me?”

                “I-“

                “Kiss me.” He reaches his lips up towards mine and the hand on my neck holds me in place.

                “No, no, I don’t want to.” I struggle against him, but he’s not listening and his grip is surprisingly strong. I can feel his hot breath in my face and it nauseates me. I feel like I’m about to be sick. I’m pushing against him with my arms but he’s not budging, and a new kind of fear grips me, a sense of being totally and completely helpless. _I can’t get away from him, I can’t-_

                I put both my hands flat on his chest and use push magic, concentrating as hard as I can. He falls backwards, falling on his hands in a puddle of melting snow. “What the hell was that?”

                “I pushed you,” I say, raking in deep, frantic breaths. For some reason, my voice sounds stronger than I feel right now. “I told you to stop.”

                “You can’t use magic on me,” he yells.

                “It wasn’t magic,” I insist. I don’t need to be in trouble for that again.

                “You couldn’t have pushed me away without magic,” he yells as he scrambles to his feet. “I’m stronger than you.”

                “You wanna bet?” I yell, getting ready to defend myself.

                “You wanna find out?” His lips pulled back into a snarl. “Do you know what I could do to you? Because I don’t think you have any idea-“

                “Now, now, what’s going on here?” Professor Potsdam suddenly emerges into the clearing, and my heart floods with relief, but only for a moment.

                “She used magic on me,” he yells. “She shoved me to the ground.”

                “No, Professor,” I say quickly. “He was trying to kiss me. I told him to stop but he _wouldn’t listen_ and I just, he wouldn’t listen to me and I-I-“ My voice is shaking. _I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this._

                “Shush now,” she says comfortingly. “As it so happens, I happened to be walking by when I heard you both. I took a quick peek, just to make sure no one was in any trouble, and _I_ was the one who used push magic on you, Mr. Howell.”                

                I’m not sure if that’s true or not, but I breathe a sigh of relief regardless. “Ms. Brown, I believe it’s getting late and you have treasury duties in the morning. Shouldn’t you be getting off to bed?”

                “Yes, Professor, thank you, Professor,” I murmur, heading out of the trails.

                “As for you, Mr. Howell, I would like to see you in my office.”

                I can hear him arguing with her as I step back out onto the trails. I pull my hair out of my face, still trying to get myself under control. That was _scary_. I can still feel my heart thumping in my chest, and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. I don’t even know how to explain it, but it feels like my intestines were twisted into knots. I feel cold all over, and a bit lightheaded, as if I’m running a fever. It’s all I can do to hold myself together as I make my way back towards my dorm.

                When I get back to the room, Virginia and Ellen are still up. I burst through the door, my breath still heavy in my chest. “Are you okay?” Virginia asks. I feel like that’s all they’ve been asking me lately.

                “Tommy tried to kiss me.” It comes out like a whimper.

                “And?” Virginia asks. “Wait, I mean, I thought you guys, like-“

                I walk over to my bed and pull my knees to my chest, kicking my sneakers off. “No. We didn’t. And I didn’t want to. I was trying to push him off of me-“ They wait patiently for me to continue. “But he was stronger than me, and I- Professor Potsdam – she came in and used magic to get him off of me. She told me to come back here.”

                “Professor Potsdam?” Ellen asks. “Why was she there?”

                “I don’t know,” I shrug. “I was telling him to stop, that I didn’t want to but he wasn’t _listening_ and I guess she heard.” I feel sick to my stomach. They don’t say anything as I roll over to face the wall.

                “Are you going to be okay?” someone asks, but I can’t tell who.

                “I guess, yeah,” I reply lamely. “I guess I’m just…freaked, is all.”

                I close my eyes and pull out the stone, hugging it so tightly I’m afraid I’ll shatter it in my fist. _Protect me._ And just like that, I feel his heartbeat, slow and sure. _He’s probably sleeping_ , I think, and force myself to smile in spite of myself. I imagine if he had been the one to find me out there. He probably wouldn’t have just _pushed_ Tommy away, he would have blown him over the school fence, maybe blasted him into another dimension.

                _But what if he wouldn’t have?_ A voice creeps into my head. _What if he wouldn’t have cared?_ I groan and punch my pillow with my fist. His heartbeat is gone now; I lost the connection.

                “Ellen, can you help me out with a sleep spell? Please?”

                “Of course,” she says softly, and within a few minutes, I fall into an uneasy sleep.  


	35. Chapter 35

                I take a deep breath and push myself out of bed. It’s a quarter to five in the morning, and although I don’t want to get out of bed, I don’t exactly want to stay here either. And it’s not like I really have a choice in the matter. Reluctantly, I slide on my robes and make my way down the hall to the mail room. Sleeping didn’t help, in fact, it made me feel worse. All night it felt like I had this heavy pressure on my chest, like something was holding me down, like I could hardly breathe.

                Even when I unlock the door to the mail room, I jump when the lights spring on. It’s empty, and I don’t know quite what I expected. Just my imagination getting the better of me. I immediately lock the door behind me and pull out the money and the envelopes and slump down in the corner of the room behind the door so I can see who comes in before they see me. I don’t know why I’m so worried. Do I really think Tommy’s going to try to break into the room and attack me? I just…he had always seemed nice, cute, funny, and uncomplicated. Yesterday he seemed forceful and harsh, like he was a whole different person. What had suddenly happened to make him act this way? Did I do something? Did I set him off in some way?

                My stomach tangles itself into knots when I hear someone try the doorknob. I don’t hear the jingle of keys but the lock clicks open and someone walks in. I hold my breath tightly and let out a shaky sigh of relief when I realize it’s just Professor Grabiner. “Tori?” he asks in surprise. “Did you lock the door?”

                “Sorry,” I mumble. “Must’ve.” He sets about doing other things, and I rhythmically put money in the envelopes, trying not to cry. I try to sync it with my breathing, tucking the money into the envelope on an in breath and sealing it with an out breath, but I feel like I’m not getting enough oxygen and I soon release a long shuddering breath.

                I breathe out and rub my face with both hands, leaning back in the chair. _Come on, it’s over now, just get a grip_. I shake my head and sniff as I sit up. Grabby’s looking at me, but I just bow my head and focus on my work.

                “Are you all right?”

                “Just tired,” I mumble. If I speak any louder than a mumble at this point, I’m afraid my voice is going to be choked by sobs that I won’t be able to hold back.

                “What’s wrong?” he asks. I don’t answer. He sits down next to me, and my heart skips a beat at our proximity. “Tori, what’s wrong?” I don’t want to look up. His voice is firm, and I’m expecting his angry lecture stare, the way he looks when people are giving him the wrong answer to an obvious question. But that’s not the look on his face at all. He looks concerned, and it’s touching his eyes.

                “I, um.” I don’t want to tell him this. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t feel right telling him. “Something happened to me yesterday. I’m being stupid, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

                “Tori,” he says, and there’s something in his voice, the way he purrs my name, that lures me in. I want to run into his arms and bury my face in his chest. I want him to stroke my hair, and wrap me in his arms, and that’s when I realize I’ve never felt that way about Thomas. Ever.

                “Someone…” I twist my hands in my lap. I can’t tell him this, but he’s not going to go until I do, so I purposely don’t look at him and spit my words out in a rush. “…tried to kiss me and I didn’t want him to and he was holding me down and I couldn’t push him off so I pushed him with magic and then I thought he was going to attack me and then Professor Potsdam came and said that _she_ was the one who pushed him off me and yeah.” I rub my arm uncomfortably and he’s quiet for a long time.

                “Are you all right?” he asks finally. “You don’t have to be.”

                “It’s complicated,” I bite my lip, peeking at him from the corner of my eyes.

                “Complicated?” he asks. He seems surprised.

                “Well,” I shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t ever really…like him like that. I didn’t want him to kiss me. I want- well, I like…someone else.” My eyes meet his for a second and I blush, looking away quickly. _He’s not stupid,_ I tell myself. _He knows it’s him._

He sucks in a breath, and I give him a moment to think as he makes a decision about something. “You don’t need anyone right now,” he says at length. _What?_ Something sinks into my chest. “Just, focus on your studies for the time being. You’re young yet, and you’ll find the right person eventually.”

                _Eventually. Or maybe I don’t have far to look. Maybe he’s sitting right next to me._ “Eventually?” I ask. “Like, after I graduate? And I’m not a student anymore?”

                A smirk pulls at the corners of his lips, and he chuckles a bit. “Perhaps,” he says. For some reason, this rubs me the wrong way. I realize I have finished sorting the envelopes, and stand up quickly.

                “Yeah, great,” I say bitterly. “Two years of my life gone, but, hey, at least it’ll be slightly more appropriate, right?”

                I don’t give him time to respond. I grab the packages for delivery and head out the door. I don’t know why I was so harsh to him. He was my professor; there was no way he could ever reciprocate whatever childish affections I had for him. In any case, he had a point. I was just attacked yesterday. I didn’t need _anyone_ right now but me. But that wasn’t exactly true. I wanted Hieronymous there, I wanted him to stroke my cheek and tell me that it was all going to be okay. I wanted intimacy, real, raw, emotional intimacy, and comfort, and I wanted him to be the one to give it to me. But he couldn’t give me that, not in the way I was looking for it, anyway.

                I avoid Grabiner for the rest of the week. Tommy keeps showing up to my door and asking to talk to me, even once arriving with Donald, but Virginia and Ellen have made sure not to let him in. They don’t really understand _why_ , but I don’t want to talk to them about it. How am I supposed to tell them that I’m kind of scared of him? He’s smaller than me and he’s supposed to be a freshman. My magic is stronger than his. I should have been able to defend myself better. He doesn’t _look_ that strong, but he was holding me to him with such force…

                Valentine’s Day is coming up, and part of that makes the whole thing worse. No one asks me to help with the Valentine’s Day sales, and I let it go. It doesn’t matter. Part of me feels a little better that Grabiner might _consider_ me after graduation, but that feels like such a long time from now. So many things could happen between then and now…what was I supposed to do? Just ignore the connection between us and shuffle awkwardly around each other for two years until I graduate? What good would that do? I wasn’t sure why I was suddenly so interested in him; maybe mulling over my feelings for him were a welcome distraction, rather than constantly replaying the feeling of Tommy’s cold, clammy hands on the back of my neck as he tried to force himself on me. Honestly, all he wanted was just one kiss. I didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to me, but it was. It felt like a big deal, it felt like a huge, monumental deal, and although I couldn’t explain why, I feel like not kissing him back was probably the best decision of my life.

                It makes me feel guilty listening to Grabby’s heartbeat to lull myself to sleep at night, but I tell myself that it’s what I need right now, partly because it is. I’ve started to have nightmares, nightmares where some demon is holding me down, its hot, sulfuric breath in my face, trying to stick its acidic tongue down my throat. It’s so heavy on my chest and I can’t breathe and I can’t move as it comes closer and closer – I’ve never experienced night terrors before, but now I understand why they call them terrors for a reason. Ellen tells me I’ve been crying out in my sleep a lot lately and waking them up in the middle of the night, but there’s nothing I can do but apologize. I don’t think they understand it at all, and I don’t know how to explain myself any better. How am I supposed to tell them that all of this was brought upon by Tommy simply trying to kiss me? It didn’t make any sense even trying to justify it to myself; there would be no way I could possibly explain it to them.

                Friday night I can’t sleep at all, so I head into the mail room in the early hours of the morning. It’s probably not as safe as my dorm room, but I lock the door, lie down on the couch, and wrap my robes around me as I try to sleep. I can’t, not really, and I end up sorting through the mail at around 4:30. Unfortunately it seems that they are doing two weeks of Valentine’s Day cards this year, and there’s so much to sort through that I am still busy sorting through the mail when Professor Grabiner walks through the door an hour later.

                “You look like you’ve had a good night’s sleep,” Professor Grabiner observes as he sees me. I look like shit and he knows it. I just make a face and keep on sorting.

                “This is such crap,” I say to take the conversation off me. I wave a bunch of valentines in his face. “This is the worst part of the year. It’s all I can do not to vomit.”

                “Well, don’t get bitter before your time,” he says, but I just roll my eyes. “Or are you perhaps jealous for some reason?”

                “Jealous?” I blink at him. There’s a look of good humor on his face. I have no idea if he’s actually in a good mood, or if he’s simply taunting me to serve as a distraction. I decide to throw it back in his face anyway. “I mean, are you jealous? You’re not getting any either, I bet.”

                “Oh, I get enough of them,” he replies, and my head tilts in confusion. “People think it’s funny, to prank me, with fake love letters.”

                “Oh.” I don’t know why, but it fills me with a mixture of emotions as I remember the one he accidently received from me during my freshman orientation, combined with my desire to send him a real one. “Well, at least you’re still getting something, so I have the right to be more bitter than you, for a change.” I try to say it teasingly, but it doesn’t sound very funny, even to my own ears.

                “Does it really mean that much to you?” he asks after a moment.

                I sigh. “No, it really doesn’t. I’m just being a stupid teenage girl. Ellen and Donald have been inseparable lately, and I’m pretty sure Virginia’s dating someone since she seems to be gone all the time now. A lot of my senior friends have graduated and moved on; I’ve just been really…alone lately.” I shake my head and raise my eyebrows at him. “I’m just being stupid. Carry on.”

                “You’re not being stupid,” he says softly. “It’s not stupid to want to be thought of.”

                I shrug uncomfortably. “I mean, you’re pretty lonely and you don’t seem to mind it.”

                “Maybe it’s because I know I’m already being thought of,” he says, and I can’t read his expression as he turns and walks out of the room. I open my mouth to say something, but he’s already gone.

                Virginia won’t tell me who she’s dating, probably because I don’t even bother to ask her, but she is gone all day and only seems to come back to the room at night to sleep. Even Ellen is spending a lot more time with Donald, and since I’ve been hanging out in the room more since I’m afraid to walk the trails in case I run into Tommy, she’s started hanging out here less too. I continue my pattern of going only to Potsdam’s classes, or going to the gym, or studying in my room. It’s kind of quiet, day in and day out, with no one to really talk to, and I wonder if this is how Hieronymous feels all the time. I wonder if he minds it, or if he likes it this way. Do I like it this way? I’m not sure.

                Valentine’s Day eventually comes. Professor Potsdam gives a long speech about consent and how it pertains to magic, but I can barely listen to it. If it wasn’t for the same speech she gave last year, I would almost be sure she was giving us this talk because of me. I’m probably not the only one this has happened to, but it doesn’t make me feel any less alone.

                After class, I head back to my room to see two Valentine’s Day cards sitting on my nightstand. _Really? Two?_ But as I open up the first one, my heart sinks in my chest. It’s from Tommy, saying he wants to talk to me, he wants to work things out… I don’t even bother reading the rest of it as I rip it up and throw it in the trash. I don’t even want to think about him anymore, and I’m probably going to be stuck seeing him on campus for another two years yet. Was I really just going to hide in my room and avoid him for two whole years?

                I jump on my bed and close my eyes before I realize I had another card. _Who’s it from? Virginia? Ellen? One of them trying to be polite? I_ pick it up off the desk. It’s just a generic card, it’s not signed, but I immediately know who it’s from. I blush and quickly tuck it into the pages of my diary before anyone else can see as I lay my head on my pillow and repeat the words back to myself.

                _You’re being thought of._


	36. Chapter 36

                There’s a knock on the door. I open my eyes and blink around me in the dim light of the morning. It’s still early. The only person I can imagine who would be up right now is Professor Grabiner. Did something happen? Does he need to talk to me? I tiptoe my way past a sleeping Ellen and Virginia and make my way to the doorway, peeking out. It’s Tommy.

                “Go away,” I hiss.

                “No, Tori, I need to talk to you.” He grabs the door, and I put my knee up against it to keep him from getting in.  

                “Well, I don’t want to talk to you.”

                “Look, I made a mistake that day,” he says. “I came on too strong, you weren’t ready, and I’m sorry. But you don’t have to keep avoiding me. I miss you.”

                “I told you I didn’t want to,” I whisper.

                “And I said I made a mistake,” he whispers, a little bit louder. There’s something dark and angry in his voice, and it scares me.

                “And I’m saying I don’t really care.” I try to push the door shut, but he holds it in place.

                “Oh I see how it is,” he whispers. “He makes a mistake and you instantly forgive him, but I make a mistake and that’s the end of us?”

                “He-?” I hesitate at the implication. _How could he possibly know?_ “Goodbye Thomas.” I use push magic to push the door shut, and it does so with a slam. Ellen and Virginia stir behind me.

                “Tori?” Ellen asks. “What are you doing?”

                “Nothing, go back to bed,” I snap, darting back under the covers. I pull my knees to my chest and pull the blankets tighter around me.

                I wish he had left me alone after that, but he didn’t. He started following me back and forth to class, always hanging a few feet behind me in the halls and then following me back to my dorm. I only went to get food if Ellen or Virginia happened to come with me; otherwise, I just stayed in my room all day and all night. I knew I should tell someone about what was going on, but I didn’t know who to talk to. Ellen and Virginia didn’t understand what I was going through, I couldn’t tell Professor Potsdam about it because I felt like she would just tell me to ignore him, and I couldn’t tell Professor Grabiner because…well, because of how I felt about him. Maybe it was just better to keep _everything_ to myself.

                But at the beginning of March, I started to show up to Grabiner’s class every day. I didn’t really pay attention, and I didn’t really look at him. I didn’t talk to him before or after class, but I was always the last one to show up and the first one to leave. I didn’t know why I was going there every day. I wasn’t learning anything new, but at the same time, I just felt safer being near him. Even watching him yell and snap at people made me feel better than I had in ages. It was like I missed him in a way I couldn’t possibly describe, and just being able to get near him, even for a few brief hours in the morning, was enough to fill that feeling of emptiness inside of me, at least temporarily. Eventually, though, he clued into the fact that something was wrong and approached me after class.

                “You’ve been avoiding me,” he notices.

                “Not avoiding,” I reply, avoiding his eyes. “I just, I’ve been going through some stuff. I didn’t want to drag you into it.” He contemplates this for a moment. “Really, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” I take a breath in and out. “I’m not a child. I can figure this out on my own.”

                “Are you trying to prove that you’re an adult by not asking for help when you need it?” he asks. “Because that tends to imply the opposite.”

                “It’s not that simple,” I murmur, turning away from him.

                “Tori, tell me what’s wrong. Did I…” he hesitates. “…do something?”

                I blink at him. “No,” I shake my head. “No, it’s not you. It’s…” I wave my hand into the air, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly. I sigh. I’m going to have to get this out sooner or later. “Thomas has been following me. Everywhere. Well, I mean, really just to class in the morning. After class I usually just stay in my room all day and lock the door so he can’t get in.”

                “Tori, this is serious,” he frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

                “Because, what does it have to do with you?” I ask. “Really?”

                “Because it’s my duty to protect you,” he responds.

                “Why?” I ask. “Because you’re my teacher? Or because-?” I blush with the implication.

                “This isn’t any easier for me,” he says quietly, and I realize our fingers are touching. “I’m going to protect you.”

                A smile touches the corners of my lips as I look up to meet his eyes. “Is it bad that I always feel really safe whenever I’m with you?”

                He smiles back and looks away. “I’ll make sure that boy doesn’t bother you anymore,” he says as he starts to walk out of the room.

                “Are you going to kill him?” I ask lightly.

                He snickers. “Only if he gives me a reason to.”

                It works. After that, Thomas stops following me around. I don’t know what Professor Grabiner said to him, or how he threatened him, but it did the trick. I do feel a little better. I even pass another test, earning a full ten merits from Professor Grabiner, which feels like a triumph in itself. But as I get back from the test, I notice a note sitting on my bed in Ellen’s neat handwriting.

                _Tori, I need to talk to you. It’s important. Please come visit me in the gym at midnight tonight. Don’t tell any of the teachers. I don’t want to get expelled. It’s really important that you see this though. See you tonight._

                I stare at the note. Something about it doesn’t feel right. Is Ellen in some sort of trouble? She _did_ ask me not to tell anyone, but would it be safe telling Professor Grabiner? I sigh. Maybe I can ask her what this note is all about when she gets back from wherever she is. I wait all afternoon, but Ellen doesn’t come back. Neither does Virginia.

                I pace the room, watching as the hours tick by. I don’t want Ellen to get in trouble, but I have a bad feeling about this. As midnight approaches, I switch out of my robes and throw on jeans and a hoodie, clutching the stone around my neck to get closer to him. As soon as I can feel his heartbeat, I start to cast Far Speak.

                _Hieronymous, listen to me. I don’t know if you can hear me. Ellen wants me to meet her in the gym, but I think something’s wrong. She told me not to tell anyone in case she might get expelled…but I don’t know, I have a bad feeling about this and I just wanted to tell you. I know you’d probably tell me to stay put and keep myself out of danger but she’s my friend. I have to do this. It’s probably nothing but…I just wanted you to know._

                I don’t know what else to say. I feel like I should close it off with something dramatic like, “In case I don’t make it back-“ but surely it’s not that serious, right? But what could Ellen have found that she doesn’t want any of the teachers to know about? Why has she and Virginia not been back all day?

                As I step outside and lock the door behind me, I can’t help but notice that the campus feels too quiet. The wind blows ominously and I feel as though there is a storm coming on as I make my way towards the gym. If Ellen wanted to make this any more mysterious, she has picked a perfect setting for it. I walk into a gym, my heart jumping into my throat as the door slides shut behind me.

                “Ellen?” I ask, walking into the center of the room. My sneakers echo and squeak against the gym floor. “Ellen, I’m here. What’s going on?”

                The gym is dark and I pull up a ball of light in front of me. I can see a shadow move out of the corner of my eye and make my way towards the person standing there. “Ellen?” I ask tentatively.

                I can see the light settle on someone’s face.

                It’s not Ellen.


	37. Chapter 37

“Tommy,” I say tentatively, taking a step back. “Where’s Ellen?”

                He chuckles as he snaps his fingers and the lights snap on throughout the gym, lighting it up one beam of light at a time. “Ellen? She’s fine. She’s not the one I’m after.”

                “Well, I’m here now,” I breathe out slowly, and it feels like there’s a tangle of wires tightening in my chest. “I’m the one you’re after, right?” He just stands there, crossing his arms over his chest as he smirks at me. “Why are you doing this?” I yell at him suddenly. “Because I didn’t want to kiss you? Grow up.” I turn back towards the gym doors to leave when a ring of fire forms around me. I breathe out, pushing a wind gust through the gym, and the fire goes out.

                “What was that?” I demand. “Your magic’s not good enough for that.”

                “You stupid girl,” he says. “Although I guess you’re in good company, given as how no one else has seemed to notice me. Well, besides Grabby, he’s been onto me from the start. But I suppose that’s only been because of you.”

                “Because of me?” I echo. _How would he even know about Professor Grabiner’s feelings for me?_

                “This is getting boring, and you’re so very, very lost little girl,” he sighs. “Really, is my glamor that perfect? I mean, I had been practicing it for years, but I thought that someone would have seen through it by now. I guess not. I managed to even throw Professor Potsdam off my trail. Nobody would expect cute, innocent little Tommy of any wrongdoing.”

                I shake my head in confusion. “So, if you’re not Tommy, what did you do with him?”

                “You’re asking the wrong question,” he says. “If I’m not Tommy then I’m…”

                I hesitate. If he’s not Tommy, who else would want to kiss me? Who else would want to hurt me? Who else is there? “I have no idea who you are,” I yell, spreading my arms around. “So just show your face and let’s get done with this.”

                “As you wish.” He snaps his fingers, and I blink as the glamor fades. The wings, the blue skin, the flowing red hair….

                “Damien?” I ask, my jaw dropping. “You can’t be here. The wards-“

                “Don’t really work,” he says with a laugh. “Yeah, can you believe it? I tried to get on campus one day and then just, poof.” He snaps his fingers. “Just walked right in. And that’s when I started crafting my plan.”

                “Crafting your plan?” I ask blankly. “What do I have to do with _anything_?”

                “You _rejected_ me,” he yells. “I thought I was doing everything right. I thought I was making you fall in love with me. And then suddenly I find out you’re married to _Grabby_.” He shakes his head. “You would choose that old English sack of crap over me? After how he treated me all these years?”

                _Wait, married?_ He seems to see the look on my face. I feel the itching sensation in the back of my head again, but my heart is pumping in my chest and I’m too focused to lose control now.

“At first I just wanted your soul, but after you would choose him over me? No, that wasn’t going to work. So I had to tip things into my favor. And then I thought, how great would it be, if I made you fall in love with me as someone else, and _then_ I’d get you to give me your soul? Grabby wouldn’t have protected you, he’d lose his magic…it was perfect karma.” I stare at him in shock. This can’t be happening. “But the real question was how to make you fall in love with me? You wouldn’t, not with you and Grumpy getting all close and cuddly….you looked _so happy_ , so I just…” He wipes his hands in the air. “Took that all away. It was great, really. I didn’t even realize until you started digging into things that if you kissed me it could break your vows and then – poof! You’d die, he’d lose his magic. Either way, I think I’d be pretty happy with the results.”

                “The book on memory spells,” I yell. “You left that in the library for me. To taunt me. You did that to me.”

                “And then I got to watch you cry in my arms about losing your parents,” he said. “That was such a win-win for me, you have no idea.”

                “Well, it didn’t work,” I snap. “I didn’t forget Hieronymous. I forgot…that we were married, and now that you’ve told me, you can take down the shield.”

                “I could,” he shrugs. “But I won’t.”

                “You want to make a deal?” I ask. “Take down the shield. Let me separate from him so that he’s not a part of this anymore. Then you can deal with me directly. He’s not a part of this.”

                “Did I not mention how he tormented me for _four years_?” Damien yells. “This is as much about punishing him as it is you. I watched you both suffer, and really, your whole I-love-you-but-I-can’t-be-with-you thing was adorable, it was cute, for a while, but now I think it’s about time I just killed you both.”

                I stand my ground. “Tell me how to take down the memory shield. And then maybe I’ll make it easy for you.”

                “I don’t want you to make it easy,” he snaps. “But I can tell you one way. You could kill me.”

                I scrunch up my nose. “Kill you? It can’t really be that simple.”

                “I’m the one holding it in place,” he spreads his arms. “And it was cute watching you throwing yourself at the wall again and again, trying to get through, but I made sure to stay close to you, made sure to keep it in place, until it just got to be too much fun watching you destroy yourself from the inside out.”

                “I’m going to kill you,” I say quietly. “I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to get my memories back, and I’m going to make you pay for-“ His laughter cuts me off.

                “That’s all very cute and all, but I’m stronger than you,” he says. “I’ve had more training than you. I can turn your insides to your outsides right now, but I’m waiting for someone else to get here first.”

                “Someone else?” I blink before I realize that I sent a message to Hieronymous, telling him where I was going. _Oh no._

Suddenly there’s a flash of light and I stumble a few paces backwards as something big and bright smashes into Damien from the side. I turn to look and see Hieronymous standing there, his face flushed with anger. “It’s about time you showed up,” Damien says, pulling down his shield.

                “Oh, I’ve been here the whole time,” he says darkly. “Tori, get out of here.”

                “I think you might have a little trouble trying to teleport out of here,” Damien warns. “This whole gym is warded, the doors are sealed: no one’s getting in, or out.”

                “How do you even have the power for that?” Hieronymous asks.

                “I’ve been spending a lot of time between here and the Otherworld lately,” he says. “In fact, maybe I should take your wife there. That would be fantastic, wouldn’t it? Now you can watch _two_ of the women you love die there.”

                “Only one problem with that-“ I say, teleporting behind him. I use push object, causing him to stumble forward between us. “-we’re not the ones who are going to die.” Unfortunately my push isn’t as strong as I would like it to be, and he swings his arm out, causing me to fly sideways, and I go sprawling across the gym floor.  

                “Come behind me,” Hieronymous yells. “Now.” I don’t wait. I immediately teleport behind him. He holds his arm up and I can feel an immense heat wave as fire spins around us. _Woah._ I press myself into his back, wrapping my arms around his middle. I remember back during the Thunder Dance, I had seen seniors spin fire, but he wasn’t just spinning little orbs of flame like they were. This was a wave of fire, swirling around him, so thick that I couldn’t see Damien through them. Suddenly, I hear Hieronymous’ voice in my head.

                _Tori, when I say so, shield us._

_Will it be strong enough-?_

_Now, Tori, do it._

I close my eyes and concentrate and pull a shield over us as a wave of fire comes crashing down all around us. I can’t see, but I feel an oppressive heat on all sides. _Is he filling the gym with it?_ I can feel myself weakening, but I still feel the heat and so I keep the shield going for as long as I can, my arms clenched tightly around his middle.

                “Tori, you can let go now,” he says quietly, and I blink as I open my eyes. The fire is gone, and it’s just the two of us in the gym. I quickly let go of him as I step back and look around.

                “Where is he?” I ask uncertainly.

                “I’m not sure,” Hieronymous looks from side to side. “Are you all right?”

                “Yeah,” I breathe. I can still feel the power emanating off of him like a heat wave as I look him up and down. “That was hot.”

                “Really?” he asks as he spins around, searching for Damien. “Now?”

“Well, sorry, but I can’t exactly help-“ Suddenly I feel something grab me and I go flying to the side in a rush as Damien grabs me and teleports me halfway across the gym. He’s holding me by the nape of my neck, and I squirm and kick my feet as Damien holds me in the air in front of him.

Hieronymous holds out his hand, but doesn’t do anything. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Damien says as he lowers me slightly towards him. I can feel his tongue jut out and lick the side of my cheek, and I squirm away in revulsion. “Mm,” he says, holding me out again as if offering me to Hieronymous. “You want a taste?”

“You are such a creep,” I mutter. I swing one of my legs back into his side, but he acts like he doesn’t even feel it.

_Hieronymous just shoot him or something I’ll be fine._

                _Tori I’m not going to risk-_

“You really hate this right now, don’t you?” Damien asks, shaking me lightly. “You, weak and helpless, and your lover-boy unable to do anything to save you.”

                “I don’t know about that,” I say, and suddenly Hieronymous teleports behind him, shooting him in the back with some spell in one quick move.

                As Damien loosens his grip on me, I pull an energy ball into my hand and punch him in the side of the face with it, making him stumble backwards.

                “I’m not going to be the damsel in distress, you asshole,” I say. He starts to get up and I quickly teleport away from him, keeping my distance. I’m usually decent at close-distance fighting, but I had only done it in the dungeons on monsters, never on a trained opponent who was much stronger than me, and maybe at least as strong as Hieronymous.

                Damien flings something in my direction and I jump and roll to avoid it. I pause for a moment and watch as Hieronymous and Damien trade blows back and forth. Hieronymous isn’t dodging at all, he’s simply casting and shielding, casting and shielding. He looks completely focused, completely in his element. His lips are moving and it looks like he is chanting something under his breath. I want to help, I want to attack too, but I don’t want to break his focus and I need to conserve my magic. Hieronymous is much, much stronger than me. He can do this…

                …I think. The only thing that concerns me is that Damien doesn’t look like he’s having a difficult time of things at all. He’s too slow to block all of Hieronymous’ spells, but they don’t look like they’re doing much damage to him at all. He must have inhaled some serious kind of Otherworld magic, because it looks like Hieronymous’ spells aren’t having any effect on him. I don’t want to break his concentration, but-

                _Hieronymous, look at him. You’re not hurting him. We need a new plan._

                _Tori, you need to go. This isn’t your battle._

 _Like hell it isn’t._ Suddenly, I’m angry.  Not my battle? Damien stole my memories. He took the past seven months of my life away from me. Everything he had done, he did it to me. Hieronymous suffered the consequences of it _through_ me, but he didn’t lose his memories. He didn’t lose that part of himself. He doesn’t know.

                Suddenly, I’m angry enough to cast, and I take the time that Damien is distracted to channel a fireball in his direction. I put everything I have into it, and then release it in his direction. It hits him in the side, and he was so focused on blocking Hieronymous’ attacks, that he didn’t even notice it. He falls to the ground, although he has time to shield Hieronymous’ next attack as it comes, and he teleports directly in front of me as he gets to his feet.

                “Tori,” Hieronymous yells. “Get behind me.”

                I close my eyes as Damien throws a flash of light my way, and end up behind Hieronymous. “We need to teleport,” I say quickly. “If we can’t get out, we can at least get around.”

                “No, you just need to focus on getting out of here,” he says under his breath.

                “Two against one,” I say. “I’ll keep him distracted. You’re stronger than me, I keep his firepower aimed at me, you wear him down.”

                “Tori-“ he says, but I run out a little ways from him into the center of the gym.

                “You think I’d ever really _like_ you?” I yell at him. “Why would I like you? You’re an _idiot_. I mean, seriously, no wonder Angela dumped you in front of everybody. Why would she be seen-“ I throw myself to the floor and roll as he throws a fireball in my direction. I roll to the side, the edges of my hoodie burned.

                _Okay, way too close._

I sense something else coming towards me and I throw up my shield, only for the force to knock me backwards. My chin scrapes against the floor, and I struggle to sit up as yet another thing flies in my direction.

                “Tori-“ Hieronymous tries to get in front of me, but as he’s teleporting over, Damien holds out both hands and Hieronymous suddenly appears on the other side of the gym, bound against the walls, his hands on either side of his head.

                “Let him go,” I yell. I send a blast in Damien’s direction. It hits him in the shoulder and he flinches.

                “Oww, that hurt,” he says sarcastically. Hieronymous has started to chant something under his breath. “Oh, no you don’t.” Suddenly Hieronymous flinches as his voice is caught in his throat. If he can’t move, if he can’t speak, then he can’t cast-

                “Well,” Damien smiles at me. “Now is the part where he’s going to watch you die.”

                I gulp. _Oh shit._


	38. Chapter 38

                “No,” I hiss, teleporting to a far corner of the gym. This is the third time I’ve teleported in such a short time. I’m not used to it, and I can feel my magic draining fast. I need to do something. My magic is not strong enough to beat him. I need to think of something else.

                Quickly I spin around and make it look like I’m running for Hieronymous before I jump and teleport behind Damien and put my hands on either side of his head, trying to snap his neck. It doesn’t work.

                “Oh, are you serious right now?” Damien just laughs as I retry my positioning and keep going. “Seriously, stop that tickles.” He flips me over his back and I fall to the floor in front of him. He puts his hand on the collar of my hoodie and lifts me up into the air as I struggle under his grasp. I feel my foot plant a kick into his side, but he seems to just swallow the force of impact.

                I try to think as Damien laughs and goads, my legs squirming in the air. White magic. I need to use white magic. If he’s using magic from the Otherworld, it might be my only defense. Slowly, without drawing too much attention to myself, I draw a small ball of light behind my back, feeding it energy, letting it get bigger and bigger until-

                I bring it around and smash it in front of me with my mind, and it’s enough to knock Damien backward. He stumbles to the ground and I sit there for a minute, panting, as he gets up again. That was it. I don’t have enough magic left for an offensive cast, and he’s still ready to go.

                “That _hurt_ ,” Damien yelled, and suddenly I go flying back into the back corner of the room. Hieronymous is on the adjacent wall about eight feet away, still desperately trying to free himself. Maybe he’s sent out a message to Professor Potsdam or one of the other teachers. I can only hope he has. If he did, I need to buy time.

                “Please,” I huff as he teleports directly in front of me, way too close to my face. “You’re not going to kill me.”

                “Oh no?” he asks. “And why do you think that?”

                “Because if you kill me, you’d never have a chance with me,” I spit. “I mean, aren’t you supposed to be all in love with me or whatever?”

                He tilts his head to the side, as if considering my point. “Well if that’s what you think, then you’d be wrong.” Suddenly I feel a sharp burning sensation as he stabs something straight through my shoulder. I want to cry out but I don’t, keeping my lips firmly shut as my nerves scream. It feels like he’s digging through my left shoulder, and out of the corner of my eye I can see Hieronymous struggling, frantically shouting my name.

                “Do you like this?” Damien asks him. “Watching your wife suffer? Brings back painful memories, doesn’t it?”

                “Leave him alone,” I snarl. I can’t touch the stone, but I try to focus on Hieronymous’ heartbeat. I can’t feel it. I can only feel mine, thumping in my chest, and the searing pain in my shoulder. It feels like someone set it on fire, like my shoulder is slowly being eaten with acid from the inside out.

                “Leave him alone?” Damien taunts. “No, but maybe I should rough him up a little, huh? Give him a little taste? Let him know what you’re going through?” He casts something in Hieronymous’ direction, and out of the corner of my eye I see his head snap back, striking painfully against the wall as he writhes in pain.

                “Don’t touch him,” I yell frantically, but he grabs me by the root of my hair and snaps my head back against the wall too. For a minute, my vision blurs over.

                “Let’s play a game,” Damien says, his breath hot on my face. “I’m going to gut one of you open like a fish and see what your insides look like. How do those ribs hold all those organs in there? I really want to know.”

                While he’s talking, I manage to cast far speak over to Hieronymous. He may not be able to cast the channel but if I throw the rope, he may be able to respond. _If there’s a way to end this marriage literally right now so you don’t have to die, let me know now. He’s going to kill me, but you can still get out of this._

_Tori don’t be stupid. I’m not letting you die. Just keep him talking. I’m trying to contact the others just keep stalling._

“Oh, what’s going on here?” Damien asks, and I reluctantly tear my eyes away from Hieronymous. “A private conversation between lovers? Can I listen in? Or are you calling for help?” I scowl at him. “Well, maybe I should make this quick then. Like I said, I’m going to cut one of you open. You can be first, or he can be first.” I take a deep breath in and out. The pain in my shoulder is starting to make me dizzy. I can barely see out of the corner of my eye that my arm is covered in blood. I don’t even feel it. That’s probably not good.

                “And since we’ve gotten so close this year,” Damien moves in closer to me. “And I can’t really trust him to open his mouth, now can I? I’m going to give you the decision. Who dies first? You or him.”

                I try to push him back with my mind, but it is only a weak little shove. “Magic’s tapped out, princess. Maybe you should have been trying to free your boyfriend instead of trying to kill me.”

                _Shit. I didn’t think of that._

“You know, if you’re going to kill me, you can at least give me back my memories first,” I tell him. His face is so close to me now, his red eyes gleaming.

                “Does that mean you want to die first?” Damien asks.

                “Oh, please, if you think you can,” I snarl at him. “But I’m not going to die so quickly. Potsdam and the other teachers will be here long before that.”

                “Yeah?” he asks. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

                Suddenly I hear a pop in my stomach and my mouth drops open as I can feel the skin rip away from my abdomen. My hoodie is soaked with blood, and I can’t look at it. The pain is explosive, and it feels like a rat is slowly burrowing a hole through my stomach. I try to breathe but it feels like my lungs are filling up with hot air, threatening to burst.

                I glance over at Hieronymous and try to force a smile, try to show him this doesn’t faze me at all, but I can feel blood pouring over my teeth. I try to see his face, but my vision is blurry now and it’s difficult to breathe. It feels like I’m choking on salt water in my throat, but I quickly realize that it’s my blood. My lungs are filling up with blood.

                “Give me my memories back,” I murmur at Damien, but I don’t know if he hears me. He’s saying something, taunting Hieronymous, and that’s when I realize that I haven’t been able to hear…anything. His lips are moving and he’s laughing and he’s talking but I can’t hear a word of it. I want to remember. I want to remember why Hieronymous married me. Did he love me? Is that why I’ve been going through all these months feeling so close to him? Is this why he’s been pushing me away and pulling me back to him? I want to remember…

                I can feel a burning sensation in the back of my head, and I decide I want to follow it. If I’m going to die anyway, I want to at least remember what may be my happiest memory. My vision flashes and I see Damien fall to the ground as Hieronymous starts casting spells in his direction. There’s a bright flash of light, and I think I see Professor Potsdam, but I’m not sure if I’m looking into a memory, or if what I’m seeing is real. I see Hieronymous in front of me, his face in mine, and I can’t tell if he’s talking or if he’s saying anything, I just feel him there.

                And then, suddenly, my vision slips away even though I don’t think I’ve shut my eyes, and all I’m left with is darkness. I try to talk but I can feel my voice gurgling in my throat, so I try to reach out with my mind. _Hieronymous, can you hear me? I think I’m about to die and that sounds so weird to say but I need you to listen to me, okay? I love you. I don’t know if I’ve said that to you before, but just…don’t question it, okay? I am so sorry this happened I don’t want you to watch me die this is all my fault I am so sorry but I need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to tell me you love me because I don’t remember you ever saying it to me and I don’t know if you do but I just need to hear it, okay? I need to hear it because…I just need to hear it, I need…_

I can feel everything slipping away from me now and the blackness recedes to a blinding white light that completely envelopes my vision. I try to move my hand to the stone to feel his heartbeat for a final time, but I can’t even be sure if my hand moved. I wait, trying to will myself to feel it, any burst of sensation.

                Nothing comes, and I watch lifelessly as the white light around my vision slowly fades to black.


	39. Chapter 39

_Holy fuck._

My eyes jerk open and I realize I’m in Hieronymous’ bed…again. He’s not there, and it gives me time to probe my memories. They’re all there, safe and intact. The shotgun wedding, our first kiss the night of the May Day ball, the summer we spent together slowly warming up to each other…it’s all there. I breathe a sigh of relief.

                I reach for the stone around my neck and am grateful that it’s still there. I reach down tentatively and, after a moment of focusing, find that I can feel his heartbeat.

 _Hieronymous?_  I reach out to him with my mind and get off the bed, walking over to the window. So Damien had done all this? This entire year with Tommy, that had really been Damien all along? I can remember now, walking through the trails late in August when I was surrounded with a purple light…that’s when Damien had done all this, made me forget everything about how I got close to Hieronymous, made me forget-

                Suddenly the door flies open and he walks in. “Hieronymous,” I gasp, rushing forward into his arms. He wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my hair. He stays like that for a few minutes before he pulls away, holding me at arm’s length.

                “Are you okay?” he asks, looking me over.

                “I’m alive,” I reply. “Are you okay?”

                He frowns and looks away. “You should see Professor Potsdam. She wanted to talk to you as soon as you woke up.” There’s an edge to his voice that I pick on immediately, and I don’t like it.

                “Is everything okay?” I ask softly. “I remember everything now. I-“

                “You should see Professor Potsdam,” he repeats, drawing away from me.

                “Okay,” I say quickly. “And then I’ll come back, so we can talk.”

                He doesn’t say anything so I just leave the room. I’m too stunned to cry, too stunned to feel anything. I thought he would be happy to see me, happy to see that I’m not dead, but he didn’t seem relieved. He seemed tenser than ever. Has something else happened?

                As I walk up to Professor Potsdam’s office, I notice the door is ajar. “Professor Potsdam?”

                “Oh come in, come in, Tori,” she says quickly. “Sit down, dear.” I slump into the seat, barely able to move. “You played your part _perfectly_ dear.”

                “Part?” I echo. “What part?”      

                She gives me a knowing look as she sits down at her desk across of me. “In capturing Damien, of course,” she says.

                “You knew this whole time?” I demand.

                “No, no,” she says dismissively. “No, I had some suspicions, but I didn’t know it was him for sure until the night he tried to kiss you. Then when he was in my office I managed to link his spell signature to the same one on your memory spells, but I didn’t know why he would do it, so I waited until he made his move.”

                I hesitate for a moment. “But Ellen said-?”

                “Oh, Ellen’s fine,” she says. “Both of your roommates are fine. The note to you was charmed, of course, to look like it was from her. But we found Virginia and Ellen in one of the library closets; they were hit with a pretty strong sleeping spell.”

                I close my eyes and turn my face away. At least they’re okay. “So Damien’s dead then?”

                “Yes.”

                “And all my memories are returned to normal?” I ask.

                “Not quite, dear.” She gets up and comes around to face me. “Hold on, this might sting a bit.”

                Suddenly I’m hit with a bright flash of light, and I feel a rush of colors and images and sounds rush through me. Hieronymous kissing me after detention, approaching Minnie in the library, confronting him about it, remembering…everything… “Wait, I remembered everything?” I blink up at her. “And you…you shielded that from me?”

                “Well, I didn’t feel right just wiping something that personal from you,” she said, sitting down again. “But it seemed to be the only way to wake you up.” I hesitate, running through the memories again.

                “So is everything okay now?” I ask. “Is everything back to normal? Will I not have that brain-itchiness anymore?”

                “You should be fine,” she replies. “Although I understand it might take you a while to come to terms with everything that has happened. It can be very difficult to experience this kind of violation.” She looks away. “I am so sorry that you had to go through this, dear, but it seemed to be the only way to draw him out so that we could put a stop to him for good.”

                “And Minnie’s going to be okay now? And my roommates?”

                “Are all fine now,” she says. “You’ve been out of it for a few days while you healed. Your injuries were very severe.”

                “And Hieronymous-“ I begin. “He wouldn’t even look at me. He just told me to talk to you.” She looks away. “Please, tell me, what’s happening?”

                “He has…” she hesitates. “Scheduled the severance for the end of this month.”

                “He what?” I exclaim, unable to hide my shock. “But he never even _asked_ me-“

                “But your memories are back now,” she says. “Which means that you can consent to the divorce.”

                “But I don’t consent,” I say. “I don’t want-“

                “Semantics, dear,” she sighs. “Consenting only means that you are _competent_ enough to make the decision. If he really wants to end it, there’s unfortunately nothing you can do.”

                “But-“ I can feel my heart breaking in my chest. After everything I had been through, now he was just going to leave me? No, this couldn’t be possible.

                “I tried to dissuade him,” she sighs. “But he was adamant. I think seeing you almost die was a shock to his system; it was like watching Violet die all over again.”

                “But I’m not Violet,” I say frantically, tears springing in my eyes. “I’m here, I’m not dead.”

                “But he thinks it’s all his fault,” she shakes her head sadly. “I had so hoped that man would finally get some happiness in his life, but I think this is…it. I’m sorry, dear, I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

                “No, no, no,” I say frantically. “I-“ I feel something rise in my throat. “No, I _need_ him right now. I-I-I-“ I run my hand through my hair. I don’t even know what to say.

                “Go talk to him, dear,” she says. “If there’s anyone who can change his mind, I think it might be you. As before, you have my blessing. Best of luck, sweetheart.”

                She waves her hand over me, and suddenly I’m back outside his room. I rush inside, not even bothering to knock. He’s standing in front of his open window, a bottle of something alcoholic in his hand.

                “You scheduled the severance?” I demand. “Without even talking to me first?”

                He doesn’t even look at me. “There’s no point.” He sounds defeated, but I’m too angry to care.

                “Well, I don’t consent to this ending,” I snap. “I’m not ready to let this go until we _talk_ about this first.”

                “It’s already done.”

                “No, it’s not done.” I want to throw something at him. I want to shake him. Instead, I run over and put both of my hands on either side of his face, trying to get him to kiss me. I kiss him, pulling at his lips, urging him on, but he won’t kiss me back. His breath smells like alcohol. “Why?”

                My voice cracks as he moves away from me. I can feel the breeze of early March blowing in through the window. It’s raining, and it looks like it’s about to storm soon. “I watched you die,” he says softly. “For a moment, I couldn’t feel you-“

                “But I’m here now-“ I take a step closer to him, and he takes a step back so I stay where I am. “I’m not dead, I’m right here.”

                “Your life is linked to mine,” he says. “If you had died, without me being able to protect you, I-“

                “So this is what it is?” I demand. “Self-preservation? Is that why you don’t want to be with me anymore? Because if I die you go down with me? _I’m not going to die._ ”

                “You almost did,” he shouts back.

                “Okay,” I say. “Once. But Damien’s dead now.”

                “And last January? When you tried to save me?” he demands. “You almost died then too.”

                “But you saved me then,” I yell back. “We got married, and I thought we agreed to try to work this out.”

                He shakes his head. “Too much has happened.”

                “But it’s not my fault,” I shout at him. “It’s not my fault that Damien took all of my memories, I-“ I shake my head. “No, this can’t be happening. I was supposed to have _months_ to work this out, _months_ to convince you not to go through with the severance in January. I never got a _choice_ in this-“

                “Supposed to?” he yells back. “Supposed to? Violet wasn’t supposed to have screwed up her spells, she wasn’t _supposed_ to die in the Otherworld. But she did. She died. It wasn’t supposed to happen but it did. Welcome to the world.” He spreads his arms. “Every student coming here to learn magic thinks they’re so invincible, that nothing can touch them. But sooner or later everyone is going to end up here. Like this.”

                “It doesn’t have to be like this,” I shout at him. “You just can’t get over the fact that I’m not her.”

                “Don’t you say that,” he yells.

                “No, it’s true,” I shout at him. “You’re afraid that I’m going to end up like Violet, so you just want me to go away forever so I don’t have to trouble you anymore.” He looks away. “This has never been about my age, or the fact that I’m a student and you’re a teacher. This is because you’re afraid that if something happened to me, you wouldn’t be able to take it.”

                “I would lose my magic-“

                “If I’m going to the mall and the bus blows up, you wouldn’t lose your magic,” I yell. “You only lose your magic if you break your vow or _explicitly_ fail to protect me when you could have otherwise prevented it. So don’t use that stupid self-preservation argument. You’re afraid of getting hurt, so you’re hurting me instead.”

                “You have the rest of your life to get over it,” he says bitterly, taking another swig from the bottle in his hand.

                “And do you think I’m going to be able to get over it?” I demand. My voice is trembling as much as my hands. “Do you? Really? After everything I’ve been through over the past few months?”

                “Tori, I’m not having this conversation-“

                “Really?” I demand. “Don’t you owe me that much? It’s been twelve years and you’re still not over Violet. Do you think I’m going to just get over you? I was practically the same age as you were when you lost her.”

                “You don’t know-“

                “And you don’t know me,” I yell.

                “I think I know you pretty damn well,” he yells back. “Considering I’ve been reading your diary.”

                “You’ve been reading my _what?_ ” I demand.

                “Your diary,” he yells. “From last year. Potsdam gave it to me to keep track of your memories. And I read through it over, and over, and over again.”

                I blanch, but I’m not going to give this up. I’m not going to give him what he wants. “Then you know how much you mean to me.”

                He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t mean anything to you. All I do is hurt people-“

                “Will you stop?” I demand. “You are such a fucking child, do you know that? It’s like you break one of your toys so you refuse to touch another one ever again. Do you know how stupid that sounds? That you got hurt once so you’re refusing to let anyone get close to you, ever again? Do you know-?”

                “That’s exactly what you just said to me,” he yells. “You said you’d never be able to get over me.”

                “And I won’t,” I yell back. “Because this is completely different. I never had a choice in this. I never had a chance to make things work between us. This entire year I was stuck between trying to remember why I liked you so much and trying to get you to like me back.” I’m fighting back tears again. “Do you think I’m ever going to get over this? Do you know how violated I was? I lost my _memories_.”

                I can’t stop myself. “So, what, you’re going to just let me go and then I’m just going to have to –what? Deal with the fact that I should have been better, smarter, stronger? That I should’ve been able to see through Damien’s glamour, that I should have been able to take back my memories and still hold onto you?” My fists are shaking by my sides. “All those what-ifs you had about saving Violet, how you’re afraid they’re going to haunt you the rest of your life? Well I’m going to have those about _you_.” My voice is jumping between hysterics, but I don’t care.

                “And the worst part is that I thought that you would be there for me. I thought that when I woke up you would hug me and tell me that everything was going to be okay. That you would work with me and at least _give me a chance_ to work this out with you. But no, you’re done with me. You can finally be out of this stupid union once and for all and then I can jump out in front of however many buses I want, because you don’t _give a shit_. This entire time I was trying to figure out how much you cared for me, and now I’m so glad to know that this _entire year_ has been _only_ about you saving your own skin.”

                “You know that’s not true,” he says. “Even after the severance, we can still talk-“

                “Oh, like that’d ever be the same?” I demand. “I still remember what you said to me in the mail room. The ‘perhaps after I graduated?’ So what, are we just supposed to spend two years awkwardly skirting around each other until you decide to be with me again? As if the second I turn eighteen, or the second I graduate, things will be any different?”

                “I shouldn’t be with anyone-“

                “You’re such a child,” I yell at him again. “Yes, just spend every day locked in your golden tower so no one can get close to you. So you can just be rude all the time and push people away. You want yourself to be miserable, and that’s why you’re pushing me away. Because you _know_ I make you happy, because you _know_ I care about you, and because you’re afraid that we might actually be good together. And we might actually be happy and that scares the shit out of you.”

                He doesn’t say anything for a long while, and I let my voice drop. “Even if you love me, you’re not going to forget her. I wouldn’t want you to.” He looks up at me sharply, and I think I see tears stinging in his eyes.

                “Tori-“

                “You’re a coward,” I yell. I don’t want to hear anything else he has to say. “I vowed to give you my kindness and my courage, but you’re too much of a coward to even accept it, to even try. Because you don’t want to be brave. You want to be selfish and make sure that you don’t ever have to get hurt, and that’s why you don’t mind hurting everyone around you. Then you never have to worry about the consequences.”

                I shake my head. He’s not saying anything now. He knows I’m right, but he won’t accept it. “You know what? Take some time. Think about this. Stop blindly jumping to decisions and really fucking _think_ about what you’re doing. Do you really want to end this so you don’t have to protect me anymore? Are you doing this for you? Are you doing this for me?” I shake my head. “Because I am _telling_ you, you’re not doing this for me. You’re not being wise, you’re not ‘acting in my best interests’ you’re just being a fucking coward. My best interests right now, is staying and working things out with you, and I have a whole long list of reasons why, and I can count them off, but you’re not even fucking listening, are you? You’re just counting the seconds ’til I’m gone.” I can see him stiffen.

                “Think about it,” I tell him. “Find me when you’re ready to let me know what you’ve decided.”

                I want to storm out, but that seems too simple. Just walk out, slam the door? I look up at the sky, at the rain starting to fall, and it reminds me of something, a faraway memory. It’s a long shot, it’s a desperate, last-ditch attempt, but it may be my last option. I step out onto the window ledge, and he looks at me, _really_ looks at me. “Tori, what the _bloody hell_ are you doing?”

                “Are you going to keep being afraid and hide in here all day?” I ask, my voice raw in my throat. “Because after _everything_ that I have just gone through, I am _not afraid.”_ He tries to use a spell to pull me off the ledge, but I see it coming even before he moves his hands and block it with ease. I glance below me. I am on the second floor, and it doesn’t look like it’ll be very….comfortable for me if I fall. He’s standing less than three feet away from me now, and he’s paying attention. I choose my next words very carefully.

                “You’re a good person. You act mean and cruel to everyone around you, but I know you. You are a nice person. You would do anything in your power to protect me, not just because you care about me, but because you care about people. And I can see it. I’m not going to die. You’re not going to get me killed. I can take care of myself, and we can take care of each other.” I suck in a deep breath. I’ve said it, now I have to prove it. “Think it over.”

                I close my eyes and jump backwards out the open window.

_Okay, this had better work or else this is going to end with him picking bits of my brain off of his lawn._

_Come on, teleport._

_Teleport, let’s do this._

_Go, go, go._

_Come on-_

                And that’s when my body hits the ground.


	40. Chapter 40

                My body is throbbing with impact from the fall, but as I hear the crash of the ocean waves just off to my left, I know that I’ve made it. I roll over, spitting sand out of my mouth, and check my body over to make sure I’m in one piece. I don’t honestly know how I was able to teleport this far out, teleport to the lake where I had fun splashing around with Damien and my roommates after freshman orientation last year.

                It all seemed so much simpler back then, back when I was just getting to know everyone and I assumed that everyone was good and wanted to be my friend. I look around to make sure no one else is around, but the beach is deserted, the woody forest keeping me separate from the road and the houses that lay beyond. I was alone now.

                I try to get up, but my legs ache and I just allow myself to fall. This isn’t fair, none of it’s fair. My parents are gone. They’ve forgotten me. It’s done. It’s over. I’ve known this for a while now, but I’m surprised by how much it still stings. If Damien hadn’t compelled my memories away, I wouldn’t have done it. That’s what I want to say, but I can’t be sure. I don’t even know who I am. Did my feelings for Hieronymous make me different somehow? Was I different before I lost my memories? Was I different after?

                I think back to the memories that Potsdam had restored in her office. I remember kissing Professor Grabiner to see if he would break his vows for me. Granted I didn’t know he was married to _me_ at the time, but I still saw it as a risk he was taking to lose his magic. And Minnie, she was sworn to an oath of secrecy to prevent her from telling me anything. If she _had_ revealed anything to me, she would have lost her magic. And I didn’t even think about that. I was so busy trying to figure out what was going on with me that I didn’t even care.

                I always thought that Hieronymous wasn’t really a nice person, bullying students and picking on them in class. But he _was_ the nice one. He spent all this time trying to protect me, regardless of my feelings for him. And I risked Minnie’s life, and his life too, kind of. Did I just use people to get what I wanted? I think back to my roommates. I hadn’t really paid much attention to them lately. I didn’t trust them with anything that was happening to me, and somehow their lives had ended up in danger because of it. Why didn’t I tell them?

                My first thought is that I didn’t have a choice. But I did have a choice. I could have trusted them. I could have told them. Even when Tommy was stalking me, I still didn’t tell anybody about it. Did I really want no one to know? Or did I think nobody would care? Maybe Hieronymous wasn’t the only one afraid of getting hurt. Maybe I was just as bad as he was, shutting myself off from the outside world so I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone or anything.

                I remember how miserable and alone I felt after the whole school found out that I was married to Professor Grabiner. But now no one knew. The whole school had forgotten that we were married, and no one would need to remind them, because by the end of the month it would be over. I wouldn’t be anyone’s wife; I wouldn’t be anyone’s friend. I would mean nothing to anybody. And the worst part was that I couldn’t have gone home for the summer and get away even if I wanted to now. I was alone, stuck here. Stuck facing Professor Grabiner on campus for at least the next two years, having to deal with his rejection again and again and again-

                I crawl a little ways towards the water and pick up a rock in my hand. I hold it out in front of me and smash it into pieces with my mind, tearing it apart until it crushed itself into a fine powder that ran through my fingers. The rain was starting to come down around me harder now, or maybe I was just more aware of it, feeling it soaking my hair to my skin. I pushed it out of my eyes and kneeled at the water’s edge, staring out at the ocean in front of me.

                I try to scream. It came out only as a choked sob at first, but I scream again, feeling it burn my throat. I scream a third time, sucking in my stomach and using all the air from my diaphragm. It wasn’t fair. Damien had targeted me because I had rejected him, because apparently he had been trying to steal my soul. And because of that I lost my parents, because of that I lost my friends, because of that, I lost Hieronymous. That last one stung worst of all, not just because of how back-and-forth my emotions were over him the past few months, but because I honestly expected him to understand what I was going through and be there for me. But he didn’t. He didn’t understand.

                “I’m not her.” I scream at the ocean. I don’t even know what I mean by that; it just sort of came out. But it’s true though, isn’t it? He didn’t want to be with me anymore because he had watched her die. And then he thought he had watched me die, and it sent him down that dark spiral all over again. But that’s not the whole story, either. I saw the anger in his eyes. She died twelve years ago, but he still loved her in ways he couldn’t love me. I saw the words he didn’t say. He wanted to say that he was _supposed_ to spend the rest of his life with her, and since he couldn’t, he wanted to do it alone. My marriage to him was nothing more than an accident. I was never going to be able to convince him to stay with me. I was a pleasant distraction for him, but I was never going to be anything more.

                There feels like there is so much truth in my thoughts that I bite into my sleeve to keep from crying out again, but the tears flow just the same. I try to pick back through all of my memories, one at a time, trying to catalog each one to make sure they’re all still there. I don’t know what the rest of my life is going to be like. Will I have to do this every morning, picking through the worst parts of my life to make sure that I haven’t forgotten anything? To make sure no one took anything from me? Am I going to have to relive losing my parents, my friends, Hieronymous in the space of a few months again and again and again?

                I can forget, I know that. I can ask Potsdam to erase it. All of it. I can get her to send me into the world again and then I won’t have to remember magic or Hieronymous –

                _You don’t forget the people you’re in love with._ That’s why he never erased his memories of Violet, it’s because he knew he would still be in love with her anyway. He’d forget her face, he’d forget her name, but he would never forget how he felt about this shadow lurking in the depths of his memory.

                And that would be me, I realize, if I tried to forget him. I would always be left with a nagging, persistent memory. And I could be sure of that, now, because I had had my memory shielded, and I still remembered him. I still remembered my feelings for him. So, in twelve years, would I be exactly like him? Stuck in the past, afraid to move on? Would I find someone? Would I force myself to love them? Or would I just pretend to? Is that what had happened to me? Was I just a cheap substitute for him to latch onto after Violet? Was he trying to do me a favor by letting me go?

                I try to yell again, but my throat aches and my cheeks burn from the tears. It’s stupid to be out here, on a beach, in the middle of a rainstorm, but I don’t have the power to teleport back right now. I lie on my back and stare up at the sky. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t even know all the answers yet. Had Tommy been a real person? Had he been some sweet young child, excited to head to Iris Academy and learn magic, only to be brutally murdered by Damien to get close to me? Was what he told me true? Did he really have two little brothers at home? Who was going to tell them that their brother was dead?

                Idly I think back to Violet and wonder if she had any brothers or sisters. I wonder if she had made the decision to let her parents go. Is that why he mourned her so heavily? Was he afraid that if he didn’t, that if he let her go, no one would be left to mourn her and she would be forgotten? Or did someone carve into him so heavily that it was his fault that it was branded onto his conscious forever?

                I lie on my back in the rain, just feeling sorry for myself. Hating Damien for everything he did to me, hating Hieronymous for turning his back on me, hating myself for everything that I could control and everything that I couldn’t. I wonder idly if I could just lie out here forever. It would be nice, it would be quiet. I wouldn’t have to explain to anyone how I had lost my memories, how I had been stripped of the very experiences that made me, well, me. I could just lie here and feel sorry for myself for the rest of my life and no one would force me to be accountable for anything.

                I can see why Hieronymous does it now. It’s nice. It’s quiet, aside from the raindrops crashing into the lake beside me. It stirs a memory deep within me, one that I know that no one has touched, no one has seen. I was about ten years old at the time, and I was so excited to go to the beach for my birthday party. But there were heavy storms that week, and my parents called it off. I was devastated. I refused to come out of my room. I screamed, I threw tantrums, and eventually on the day of my birthday, my parents packed me in the car and we drove three hours to the beach and they sat outside with me in the rain and celebrated my birthday with me, building sandcastles that looked like giant puddles of mud and splashing through the frozen waves. We all got incredibly sick afterwards, but it was one of the happiest times of my life.

                My eyes blur with raindrops or tears, I’m not sure which. I had let go of them. I didn’t have to, but I had let go of them. I could never remind them of that memory; they had forgotten it. As bitter as I am about my violated memories, I had violated theirs just the same. I close my eyes. I wish they were here with me now. I wish my mother was here to sing me a lullaby when I couldn’t sleep like she had years before Hieronymous had given me a stone that linked me to his heartbeat.

                I try to remember it, some old melodic Irish folk song. I try to hum it to myself, trying to remember the words, but they don’t come. I let the raindrops fall against my parted lips as I close my eyes and force myself to remember every happy and painful memory that I’ve ever had. It feels like I’m tearing myself apart at the seams, but the pain, the fear, the loss, the confusion, it’s mine, and I don’t want to let go of it. I had lost it all once, and as painful as it was to remember, I didn’t want to forget. Not again.


	41. Chapter 41

                Hieronymous Grabiner was not well-liked by many people. In fact, most people would say that he was a cruel man who delighted in torturing students. Some might even say that last September he set a student’s notebook on fire when he thought they weren’t paying attention. It sounded ridiculous, and a tad extreme, but that last one was true. It wasn’t that he was a cruel man, or even an angry man, but he had been angry that day and bitter for a good long while before that. He believed, at least to a certain extent, that fear instilled order, and he was determined to wield that fear of him and shape it into a tool of education. Because of his gruff demeanor, many people didn’t think twice about his methods, or his motives behind them. They just knew enough to be afraid, and to stay away.

                But Hieronymous Grabiner was also loved by a girl who saw through the mask he wore, and saw that he was afraid of letting people in, and so he had to push her away. But he had been forced to marry her, through his own mistakes, and the next year he had almost lost his life due to another student’s sick plan of revenge. She had almost died, and the truth was that she came a lot closer to dying than he had, lying on the gym floor with her head in his lap, blabbering about how she loved him and how it wasn’t his fault. Of course it was his fault. She was not the first girl who died because she cared about him. This girl was lucky. Her life had been spared, and she should go spend the rest of her life, a long and happy life, without him.

                But for some reason that idea couldn’t stick in his head. She had yelled at him. She had been telling him things that he had known all along, spitting arguments that he had expected she would use, and that was why it had been so easy to ignore her. He had been using the same arguments against himself, and so he knew every counterargument there was. He felt that there was nothing she would say that he hadn’t already thought of to sway his opinion. But then she had said something he had _never_ expected her to say: _Even if you love me, you’re not going to forget her._ He had mentioned Violet to her a grand total of two times, and yet she had still understood what he was most afraid of. It was almost concerning to him how she had seen right through him. Potsdam saw through him, of course, but that was another matter entirely. She had years and years of practice worming her way through his defenses. But this girl, who had known him for scarcely over a year, was able to see what he was truly afraid of and called him on it without the slightest fear of trepidation.

                But that worked both ways, as he knew what she was afraid of as well. Right before she had thrown herself through the window and disappeared in what had been a ridiculous, dramatic, stupid – but impressive – move on her part, he had cast an empathy spell, and it surprised him to feel the same hesitation and doubts, the same fear that flowed through him. She hadn’t been lying when she said she knew exactly how he felt, caught in a tangled web of hypotheticals.

                The thing that scared him the most was that she wasn’t bluffing. She wasn’t going to live this down. She was going to be struggling the rest of her life with what Damien had done to her, and that scared him. He thought the marriage could just end and things would be _better_ for her, if he was out of her life, but she had told him that wasn’t true. And she was right, it wasn’t. She had lost her parents, and although he could tell she was trying not to let it affect her, it cut her deep. She had been manipulated into letting them go, and she wasn’t going to be able to forgive herself for that so easily.

                In a way, she was right about another thing too. He didn’t know her. Not really. He had been surprised to see how alone she had felt around Valentine’s Day, and he was more surprised when he found out that that boy had been stalking her and she hadn’t done anything about it, staying in her room all day like he did. He had at first thought that that he had been an increasingly negative influence on her, but he was beginning to suspect that she was developing these habits on her own, shutting herself off from the people around her. He thought ending the marriage might force her to rely on them more, might force her to make new friends…

                …but could she, after this? Could she, really? The whole school had their memories altered because of her. Minnie had taken a vow of silence because of her; her roommates had had their memories substantially altered because of her. And granted it had not been directly her fault, but he could understand if they didn’t exactly forgive her for it. And how exactly was she supposed to make new friends? She had gotten close to Tommy, and it turned out that he wasn’t just some overzealous boy with a crush; he was a villain in disguise, who had been preying on her for months, slowly getting her to drop her guard around him. Who was to say that the next boy or girl she met wouldn’t be someone else trying to take advantage of her? Trying to steal her memories while her back was turned? No, she was going to be crippled by an unrelenting wave of paranoia every time she met someone new. Her roommates had abandoned her, Potsdam had straight-up used her, and now he was turning his back on her too. And then she would be alone. Then she really wouldn’t have anyone.

                _I give you my kindness and my courage._ He thought about how _she_ had agreed to marry _him_ without throwing a fuss, how he had said he didn’t want to demean himself by kissing her that day. It wasn’t easy for her, even with the feelings she had towards him; she had made that painfully clear in her diary. Every step of the way he had given her a hard time, threatening to lock her in the dungeons when the whole school found out about them, and yet she had persisted. She was kind to him, bringing him soup when he was sick, and been courageous to him, standing up for herself and their relationship the night of the May Day ball.

                And then, just a few days ago, she had confronted Damien in the gym and though she had been stupid, she had not been afraid, trying in vain to snap his neck when she had run out of magic, to reaching out to him to try to sever the marriage so that he would live if she had died. That last one really struck a nerve with him, and he was almost appalled by her selflessness. And then she had volunteered to die first, despite the fact that he had been screaming in her head to just turn on him, to let him die in her place. And the stupid way she had tried to smile at him, to say that it would all be okay with the bones of her ribcage poking through her skin… Even while she was literally on death’s doorstep, she was still honoring her vows, giving him her courage, doing whatever she could to ensure that he was safe.

                Even when she hadn’t remembered him, what had he really done to protect her? Not that much, besides pulling her closer and pushing her away again, like a child that couldn’t make up his mind. She was right, he was a child. She was kind and courageous and selfless and brave and smart and honest and he was selfish. He was a coward. And all she wanted was a little piece of himself, and he wouldn’t even give her that much. 

                He shuddered and looked down at the bottle that he was drinking, pushing it away. He had watched her give up everything for him. He had watched her suffer. He had watched her struggle as she thought she was losing her mind. He had watched her lose her parents and he had watched her throw herself out a window just to get him to actually _listen_ to her.

                He stood up. He had to at least explain himself. He at least owed her that much.


	42. Chapter 42

                I had been lying with my face towards the lake for some time now, and I could only imagine by the way that my eyes stung that they were still red with tears. I could feel the gritty wet ocean sand in the ends of my hair, and my wet clothes clung to my body in awkward positions. I don’t know how long it took me to realize that the front of my hoodie was ripped and shredded from where Damien had attacked me. I didn’t have any scars, I guess I could thank either Hieronymous or Professor Potsdam for that, but there was no getting my hoodie back. It had been my favorite hoodie, and now it was just one more thing Damien had taken from me.

                I reach into my shirt and pull up out the stone that Hieronymous had given me. I’m considering ripping it off, when I look at it, really look at it. It’s different now, scarred, from the battle with Damien. The stone is no longer completely blue. Interspersed with the blue are flecks and streaks of black running throughout, covering most of the upper quadrant. There are small white cracks running through certain parts of the stone, as thin as spider legs, and I run my fingers over them. The stone still feels impossibly smooth, as if the cracks were beneath the surface. There is one streak of blue left that runs from the middle of the stone down to the bottom left, but the black and white cracks that have since taken over almost make it look more of an azure, periwinkle blue, opposed to the deep blue that it had been before. I puzzle over it, trying to find more, raking my eyes across the jagged scars of blue amongst the black that had taken over. I close my eyes and hold it tightly in my hands as I feel his heartbeat pulse underneath my fingers. I drop it immediately, tucking it back into my chest. It still works, at least, but now it’s scarred, just like me.

                Around Christmas, I had told Hieronymous that it was easier to blame myself for everything that had happened, but now I was starting to realize that that wasn’t quite true. I could blame Damien for everything, and it would hardly be wrong not to. It was his fault that I had lost my parents, his fault that my hoodie was ripped, his fault that my stone was cracked, his fault that my mind had been violated and his fault that my relationship had ended. It had been all his fault and okay, now he was dead, but that didn’t really give me any closure, did it? I wasn’t the one to kill him. I didn’t fight him for my memories. I had stupidly jumped around the room, trying to snap his neck. Damien was right. I had been so obsessed with the notion that I could defeat him on my anger and outrage alone that I hadn’t even really thought about using my magic to try to free Hieronymous. It might have been a useless struggle, but I still didn’t even try it.

                Throughout everything that had happened, I could have tried to turn to my roommates for help, but I didn’t. I didn’t ask anyone for help. I never did. But why? Did I not want to bother them with my problems, or was I afraid of screwing up their lives with my problems? Is that how Hieronymous felt all the time? Is that why he didn’t get close to anyone else? Was he worried that getting close to other people would screw up their lives and that’s why he pushed them away? Was I really one tiny step from becoming exactly like Hieronymous? Maybe that’s why I liked him. Maybe we were perfect for each other because we were exactly alike. And that, of course, meant that we could never be together. How long would it be until I didn’t want anyone, not even Hieronymous, in my life? A year? Five years? Twelve years?

                I can hear footsteps come up behind me, but I don’t move. I think I feel someone cast an empathy spell over me, but I can’t be sure. Whoever it was, they could have it. The guilt, the growing sense of numbness, the confusion, the self-pity and the hatred, they could have all of it.

                “It was difficult to find you out here,” Hieronymous says at last. I try to search my feelings, to try to see if I’m happy or sad to see that he’s here, but I’m just indifferent.

                “Come to collect me for the severance?” I ask, but with all the screaming and the crying and hysterics I had done not more than a few hours ago, my voice is hoarse.

                Instead he sits down beside me, and I wait for him to talk. “You said that I at least owed you a conversation,” he starts. “But I would like to do some of the talking now. Is that okay?”

                I close my eyes. I know what’s coming and I suppress a sob that shudders through me. “Okay.”

                “First, I just want to say that I may have misjudged you,” he says. “I was afraid that I was becoming too much of a negative influence, so I sought to distance myself from you. I-“

                “Actually, no,” I pull myself into a seated position beside him. My voice is still hoarse, but I fight through it. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to hear whatever justifications you have for ending this. I’ve been through enough and I can’t take anymore. So if you really want to end it, then end it, but I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

                “Would it then interest you to know that I went to Potsdam before I arrived here and asked her to cancel the severance?”

                I blink hard, my voice caught in my throat. “Are you lying to me?”

                He forces a smile. “No, I’m not. May I speak now?”

                I wait patiently for him to continue. “As always, I tend to find myself…swayed by your emotional speeches,” he begins. “I do have some concerns, and I cannot say if they are mostly well-founded or not, but I suppose we shall see.” He swallows. “You were right. Seeing you almost die brought back memories of Violet, but I need you to know that you are very _not_ like her. For one, she would never be stupid enough to throw herself out a window just to prove a point.”

                I smirk. At least it got his attention. “This is all very confusing for me. I have tried to close myself off from everything after she died because I felt that it was…easier. And in a way, it has been, because I never thought I’d have to deal with a demon stealing someone’s memories of me to get back at me.” I try to force a smile, but I can’t. Nothing he’s saying is making me feel any better. “I can’t imagine what you have been going through. You had your memory torn apart, you have every reason to hate me, and yet you have been nothing but brave and selfless and kind towards me-“

                “Am I a nice person?” I ask suddenly, and he turns to me, confused. “When I was trying to figure things out for myself, before I realized I was your wife, I kissed you, knowing you were married and that if you had broken your vows you would lose your magic. I did it anyway. I approached Minnie about it, even though she had made a vow of silence, and she could have lost her magic. And I didn’t tell Virginia or Ellen about the stalking…maybe if I had, Tom- Damien- wouldn’t have been able to jump them. Maybe I just use people. Maybe I’m not a nice person. Maybe I just shouldn’t be around people.” I don’t look at him. “And I know you’re just going to say that this proves you’re a bad influence on me and that you shouldn’t be with me anymore, but you just…you should know.”

                He listens thoughtfully and contemplates his answer before responding. “I don’t have any illusions about who you are, just as you don’t have any illusions about who I am, although I think you are being unduly hard on yourself. I understand how this whole experience could make you bitter and can diminish your sense of trust, a fact that I seem to have been admittedly blind to before, but it doesn’t make me any less fond of you.” He hesitates.

                “There is something you should know. I heard what you said, on the floor of the gymnasium. I know what you said and I know what you asked, and I couldn’t do it,” he admits. “Once I found out that you were going to be okay, I immediately scheduled the severance. Potsdam, of course, was obstinate, but she had no real say in the matter.” He pauses. “I thought that if I couldn’t say it, at a time when you needed to hear it the most, that I would never be able to say it, and thus we should sever this courtship immediately. But I fear that I have been…presumptuous. I don’t dwell on my emotions half as much as you do, nor do I particularly care to search myself for a perfect label for them. But I want you to know that I do care for you, deeply.”

                “Did you ever tell her?” I ask softly. “That you loved her?”

                He frowns for a moment before shaking his head. “And I must admit that I have spoken with you about her more than with anyone else. Don’t you ever get-“

                “Jealous?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “I mean, I guess I should. I guess part of me does. But she’s a big part of your life and a big part of why you are the way you are. You can’t erase that. Erasing that would take away what makes you, well, you.” I look at him for the first time. “Memories make’th the man.”

                He smiles, and it touches his eyes. “I suppose you would know about that more than most,” he shakes his head. “I am sorry, that I did not protect you from this.”

                “There was nothing you could have done,” I say. “Hence why your magic is still intact. I know I’m a wildseed, and I don’t know much about all this oath-making and vows and rules and stuff, but I don’t think it’s so cut and dry that if you don’t protect me you’ll lose your magic completely. That seems…..really dumb,” I say, for lack of a better word.

                “Yes, well,” he sighs. “I have vowed to give you my protection, just as you’ve vowed to give me your courage and kindness.”

                “So if I’m mean to you, does that mean I could lose my magic?” I ask him suddenly, and he raises his eyebrows. “What if I tease you, is teasing mean?”

                “I suppose that would depend on the nature of my feelings,” he replies lightly.

                “Well, you also vowed to give me your wisdom,” I say. “Haven’t really heard a lot of that from you lately. If anything, I’m the one spoutin’ off all the knowledge, here.”

                “Well, you do seem to have a firmer grasp on the _emotional_ senses,” he says.

                I smile and relax into him, pulling his hand into mine. “So you’re really going to do this? You’re really going to be my husband and give this your best effort?”

                “Well, I very much doubt you’d permit me to give anything less,” he says, and I laugh as I lay my head against his shoulder.

                “I haven’t kissed you in forever,” I say eventually.

                “Would you like me to remedy that?”

                “If you feel so inclined to.”

                He pulls me into his lap, intertwining his hands through my gritty hair and kisses me hard. My lips are still swollen from crying, my cheeks still ache, and I pull away quickly, burying my face in his neck. “I want to go back now. I really could use a shower. Can we go back?”

                “It’s going to take me a little while to recharge my magic,” he admits. “I’m not even sure how you managed to teleport yourself all this way.”

                “Well,” I say. “I happen to have an excellent professor.” He smirks at that, and for once I’m glad that he makes no comment about me still being his student.

                “Remember my first test?” I ask. “When we had to pick any type of magic to get ourselves out of the dungeon and I _literally_ teleported myself out?”

                “I’ve never seen any first year student do such a thing,” he admits. “I was very impressed by you. A wildseed girl with an affinity for blue magic is a very rare thing.”

                “I may have had extra incentive,” I admit, then hit my forehead as a sudden thought occurs to me. “Oh, we’re going to have so much talking to do when we get back.”

                “More talking?” he asks, running his hands absent-mindedly through my hair. “And here I had thought we had done enough talking to last us months.”

                “I just mean about the whole-“ I wave my hands absently. “Situation. I know you value your privacy and everything but I was wondering if I could spend a bit more time with you after…everything that’s happened.”

                “I suppose that’s a fair request,” he acquiesces.

                “Can I sleep with you tonight?” I ask hopefully. “Can I fall asleep listening to your heartbeat for real? I mean, I am your wife and all.”

                He sighs. “I suppose.”

                I grin into his neck. “You know, now I know why you gave that to me and everything, but it’s also kind of really…cute. And romantic.”

                He sighs again. “Please don’t expect presents like that often. As your roommate informed you, they are very rare and I don’t think I’m ever going to live down asking Potsdam to help me track one down.”

                “Well, I mean, I do consider it a fair trade _for my diary_ ,” I say pointedly. “As if my private thoughts weren’t violated enough.”

                “I wish I could say I had more shame,” he admits. “But it was quite an interesting read.”

                “I can see why you wouldn’t put it down,” I shrug. “But I mean, technically I did give it to you, I guess, even if she did spell it so I didn’t know I did.”

                He sighs. “She put you in a lot of danger.”

                I shrug. “I could handle it.”

                “Tori, you don’t _need_ to handle it. It’s not weakness to admit that you need help, or if you can’t handle something. You’re young yet, you don’t need to have everything figured out.”

                “Well, I guess you’re young too, since you obviously don’t,” I tease.

                “Do you _ever_ stop talking?” he asks playfully.

                “Only when you’re kissing me,” I reply, as he covers his mouth with mine.

                I don’t know how long we stay like that, me cuddled into his chest with his arms around me, as the rain stops and the sun goes down around us, filling the sky with bright reds and oranges.

                “Hieronymous?”

                “Mm?”

                “How many classes do you think I’ve missed this year?”  


	43. Chapter 43

                “Hold onto me,” he says. The sun has almost completely set now, and the cold air is only being exacerbated by being so close to the lake.  

                “You sure about this?” I ask. “Maybe I should just teleport myself back.”

                “And end up three miles from the school?” he asks dryly.

                “I’m a good runner,” I say, wrapping my arms around him. “I can run.”

                “Hold on,” he repeats, and I close my eyes as we teleport from the beach, back outside his room.

                “You know it would be a lot easier if we could just teleport in and out of your room,” I say as he unlocks the door.

                He shrugs. “It’s just safer if no one can get in at all.”

                It’s suddenly awkward, just the two of us, standing in his room, even if we are husband and wife. “Can I use your shower?” I ask.

                “Don’t you have your own shower?”

                “Well it’s a shared shower, but it’s all the way over in the dorms.” I shift from foot to foot and I can hear him sigh with exasperation. “Okay, you know what? No, nevermind.” I shake my head. “See, this is one of the things that I was worried about. I know you value your privacy and your space and I don’t want to push too much too fast.”

                “It’s going to take some adjusting,” he admits. “You can use my shower, but I get to use it first.”

                “Fair enough,” I sigh, sitting on the floor by the door. “I’ll just, wait here then. I don’t want to track sand everywhere.”

                He disappears into the bathroom and I lean my head back against the wall, taking in my surroundings. I’ve always considered it his room, but if we’re married and going to stay that way, isn’t it my room too now? I sigh to myself. I do feel a bit better about this whole thing. This whole summer, I was always stressed about the January deadline, but now we’ve been married for over a year, even if I haven’t been totally aware of it, and he’s going to give it an actual chance. There is no deadline. As long as we’re happy together and I don’t push too hard, we should be fine….hopefully.

                It doesn’t take him long to shower, and he emerges from the bathroom with his lower half wrapped in a towel. I at first look away, averting my eyes upwards, before I dare myself to glance back at him. The image of him from my dream hadn’t been far off at all. He was thin, but surprisingly muscular, toned with definition. It made sense; magic wasn’t just a mental pursuit, it was physical too. “Should I get you a towel to mop up your drool?” he asks dryly as he turns away from me.

                “Drool?” I echo. “Please, I’ve seen plenty of topless guys.” He shoots me a look. “At the beach? I mean, I know you like to spend a lot of time indoors, but I swear it’s like you were just there-“

                “Maybe you should shower before I send you back to your dorm for the night,” he warns.

                I hold up my hands in surrender and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. It’s not a very big bathroom, but it’s nice. Beige tiles, mirror against one wall, shower against the other. I put my dirty clothes in a corner of the bathroom on the floor on top of my sneakers, folding them neatly before starting the hot water in the tub and jumping in. It feels weird using his shampoo and body wash, and I wonder idly if people will eventually find out that we started to smell like each other. The hot water feels really good, and the water pressure is much better than the dorm showers, but I don’t want to stay in here too long. I get out relatively quickly, grabbing a spare towel and drying off my long hair as best I can. I wrap the towel around myself as I realize that I don’t have any clean clothes to put on.

                “Umm,” I step out of the bathroom hesitantly, barefoot, wrapped only in the towel. Hieronymous is in bed reading a book. He immediately looks up when I step out, and his eyes look me up and down as color dots his cheeks. “Can I…borrow some clothes?”

                “If you must,” he says as he gestures to the wardrobe. His voice is rougher than I would have liked it to be, and I quickly open up the drawers and pull out a pair of his sleep boxers and a nightshirt, rushing into the bathroom to put them on. The boxers are a bit loose, but his nightshirt is really long and goes past my knees. I step out of the bathroom and quickly cross the floor, scurrying into bed next to him. He still has his book in his hands, but he’s looking at me now like he’s not quite sure what to do.

                “I’m sorry,” I say quickly, burying my face in the blanket. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” When I dare to peek out at him from the blankets, he’s watching me curiously, but he doesn’t seem mad. “I just…I appreciate how hard this is for you. Letting someone use your shower for the first time, borrow your clothes for the first time, sleep in your bed for the first time…”

                “Isn’t this your first time as well?” he asks, putting his book aside.

                “Yes, but I-“ I shrug. “I want to. I want to, you know, snuggle up to you at night. And I’m used to sharing my room and my bathroom with other people. But you, you’ve been alone for so long, and I don’t want to ruin things between us by overstepping my boundaries. I don’t want to push you. I want to take this slowly.”

                He closes his eyes and sighs. “You have a point. I haven’t quite decided how to feel about all these adjustments. It’s new to be sure, but not altogether…unpleasant.”

                “Will you let me know?” I ask. “Like, will you tell me? Like, oh this is a bit much for me? Or, that’s my favorite shirt, please don’t wear that? Or, you’re talking too much or hanging around me too much and I need my space?”

                “That’s only fair if I extend you the same courtesy,” he says. “But I shall do my best.”

                “I won’t take it personally,” I assure him. “Really. I want to make this work, but we need to be honest and open with one another.”

                “Agreed,” he says, turning off the light with a wave of his hand. “But we have had an emotional day. We should sleep now.”

                I nod my head and scooch closer to him. He puts his arm around me and I cuddle into his chest. I have to brush my hair aside and move around a few times, but I finally get into a comfortable position, gently placing my hand on his chest. I wait until I can feel his heartbeat, for real this time, and it instantly relaxes me.

                I picture myself this morning, standing on the other side of the bed, screaming at him to try to make this work.

                I picture myself falling backwards out the window, praying I would be able to teleport away in time.

                I picture myself lying on the beach, screaming at the ocean, breaking down in hideous sobs.

                I picture myself curling into his arms, watching the sky light up with color.

                I picture myself snuggling into him now, warm and relaxed, and I realize that today might have been a trying day, but it ended like this. It didn’t have to. It could have ended with me still on the beach, or back at my dorm, or worse, but it didn’t. It could have ended with us ready to separate, but here we are, wrapped up in bed together, trying to make this work.

                I manage to suppress a giggle for his sake, but I can’t hide the stupid grin that covers my face. He’s here. I’m happy. I’m going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.


	44. Chapter 44

                My first thought the next morning is that I’ve awoken next to a space heater. My face is smushed into the crook of his arm, the right side of my body literally thrown over his, my leg bent at an angle over his waist. One of his arms is still around me and he is reading a book in the other. “Did you sleep well?” I mumble into his skin. I take advantage of the position by running my lips against his side as I roll over onto my back, detangling myself from him as I stretch my limbs.

                “Surprisingly,” he says without looking at me. I sit up and stretch my neck from left to right.

                “I didn’t wake you up at all?” The tension in my voice is palpable.

                “No?” he asks, glancing up at me.

                “Good.” I roll over onto his chest and kiss him lightly, rubbing my nose against his affectionately. I settle back into the crook of his arms and close my eyes, snuggling up to him again.

                “Did you think you would?” he asks.

                “No, I just want to make sure I’m not annoying you,” I say, but it immediately feels wrong. It seems too forced and less natural. If this is going to work, I can’t be walking on glass shards around him, trying to constantly appease him at every turn. We have to fit together naturally, or else we’re both going to be more miserable than we already are. “Okay, sorry, I just meant that sometimes I am loud in my sleep, or so I’m told.”

                “Loud?” he muses, seemingly satisfied by my answer.

                “Yeah, I have really vivid dreams sometimes,” I say more to myself than him.

                “Mm.”

                “I had a dream about you once, in the library.” I close my eyes as I remember the dream vividly, smiling to myself, snuggling up further against him. He tenses slightly, but I pretend not to notice as I replay the dream in my head.

                “Tori?”

                “Mm?

                “I know.”

                “Know what?”

                He sighs and sets his book aside. “Your dream. I saw it.”

                “You-“ I twist and crane my neck so that I can look up at him. “You saw my dream? You saw _that_ dream?” Heat rises to my cheeks. “How much did you see?”

                “A good part of it,” he says slowly, but I can hear from his tone that he saw enough. I make a noise and bury my head under the blankets, trying to process this new development. “I must apologize. It was inappropriate to go into your dream. I simply wondered if there was any pertinent information in your dream related to your memory loss, and-“

                “It’s fine,” I say quickly, laying my head back down against his chest. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

                “Tori, it’s not fine,” he says. “I violated your privacy-“

                “Like that hasn’t been done already?” I sigh. “Look, I don’t expect you to know how I feel, but I wouldn’t want you to. I’m not mad that you saw my dream. I understand why you did it. It wasn’t just to protect me, I know you were curious too, and I don’t blame you for that. If the situation was the other way around, I probably would have peeked too.” I finally look over at him. “And, maybe it’s not that bad you saw it, anyway. So you know where my comfort level is.”

                “Tori, I don’t think either of us is-“

                “I know, I know,” I say quickly. “It was just a dream.”

                We stay quiet for a few minutes. It’s too much for me to bear right now. I feel like so much as his been taken from me these past months, my memories, my private thoughts, my dreams, myself, and I just don’t know how to handle it. The air is suddenly tense between us, and I want nothing more than to make that go away. “Please just kiss me now,” I say, and all of a sudden he rolls over on top of me, his lips pressed against mine.

                I gasp, and he takes full advantage, exploring my mouth with his tongue. I can feel his weight on top of mine, pushing me deeper into the bed, as one of his hands strokes my cheek and down my neck. The other hand reaches up and under my nightgown and grasps onto my waist firmly, stroking my sides with fingers as I buck my hips up into his. I reach both arms up around his neck and kiss him back with everything I have, running my hands through his hair, along his shoulders, down his back, before wrapping them around his neck again.

                I can’t help but suppress a moan and a shudder runs through me as he gently tugs onto my earlobe with his teeth, placing a trail of fervent kisses down my neck. I roll my head back to give his better access, running my fingertips along his sides, rhythmically bucking my hips in pleasure. His lips return to mine and he kisses me again, slowly, gently, sweetly. “Tori-“ His pace is slower now and I’m worried it’s going to stop so I hook my legs around his and flip him over, pressing my chest into his as I kiss him, cupping my hands on either side of his face.

                He gasps in surprise and wraps both arms around me as I kiss him, running his hands along my back. I can feel him stiffen, I can feel him wanting me, as I reach up and brush the hair out of his face, continuing to kiss him passionately. Suddenly he sits up quickly and grabs both my legs and pushes them out past him so that I am straddling him. I wrap both my arms around his neck again, kissing him, and I can feel him squeezing me so tightly that it almost hurts. One of his hands runs through my hair before he grabs the back of my neck and holds me steady while I brush past his lips down his cheek and down the side of his neck, kissing the tender spot between his neck and his jaw.

                I kiss his lips again and he kisses me back, but I can tell that he’s beginning to slow now, and I don’t force him. “Tori,” he whispers against my lips. “Maybe we should stop now.”

                “Maybe,” I whisper back, letting his lips brush against mine. We’re both panting and anxious with need, so I just hold him tighter to express how badly I want him. I hear a low groan in his throat as he kisses me again, holding me tightly to him. I try to think about what he went through this year without me. I remember how he confronted me in the classroom when I didn’t meet him on that first Saturday before classes started. He was hurt. And then every day after that, watching me, protecting me, without being able to tell me what was going on or how he felt. I remembered how passionately he had kissed me that day in the detention room, releasing months of pent-up frustration. Would I have been able to do it? If he had forgotten me instead, would I have just been able to sit back and watch as he got close to another girl? No, I don’t think I could.

                Overcome with my thoughts, I start to kiss him with fervent, hungry kisses, a low growl escaping somewhere in the back of my throat. He suddenly sits up straighter and I fall backwards and he pushes his full weight on top of me as I kiss him back, our kisses sloppy and passionate, tempered only by our frantic gasps for air. I wrap my legs around his middle and buck my hips into him, and he stops kissing me and buries his face in my neck as a loud moan escapes him.

                “I can’t,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. “Tori, I can’t. If we keep going, I’m going to-”

                “It’s okay,” I lean over and kiss him gently, moving back under the covers and wrapping my arms around his chest. He puts his hand on my head, running it through my hair and we lay like that for a while, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing.

                “Was that okay?” he asks after a while, and I can’t help but laugh.

                “More than okay.” I lean down and kiss his exposed chest and he jerks his head up with a laugh.

                “Don’t,” he warns gently. “Too sensitive.” For some reason I catch a look at his face right as he’s laughing, smiling, and he looks so boyish, so much younger, so much happier than I have ever seen him before. He looks back at me with a spark in his eyes, one eyebrow raised.

                “You look insanely happy right now,” I say quietly, almost unable to believe it myself. He presses his lips shut and darts his eyes away. “No, please, don’t stop on my account.”

                “Can you keep it a secret?”

                “Hm?”

                He lays his head back down on the pillow. “Can you keep it a secret? If word gets out that I’m not an entirely miserable, loathsome person, I’ll never be taken seriously again.”

                “I think I can keep my mouth shut,” I say, letting my voice drip with a seductive edge. “You know, for the right price.”

                He sits up on his elbows and looks at me. “Are you threatening extortion, Mrs. Grabiner?”

                Hearing him call me Mrs. Grabiner is seriously more than I can take and I throw myself at him, kissing him, hurling my arms around his neck. He kisses me back and rolls me over on my side, kissing my lips, kissing my face. Eventually he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine. “What are you doing to me?”

                “Nothing I don’t think you want me to,” I breathe back. “Although I must say, I’m surprised at how immediate of an effect it’s having on you.”

                “I think I’ve been waiting to do that for the past seven months,” he admits.

                I can feel myself starting to sober up as I lay my hand against his chest. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”

                He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. “And I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you,” he echoes.

                “I’ll get over it eventually,” I shrug, looking up at him. He really does look not much older than me, with a spark in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re not going to be able to go to class like this. You look just too happy.”     

                He pushes his face into mine and smushes my lips against his, causing me to draw back in laughter. It was almost scary how fast the change had taken over him, it’s like the walls around him had slipped and toppled each other over, leaving only Hieronymous in their place. “What day is it?”

                “Uh, Sunday,” he says, and I nod to myself.

                Okay, Sunday. Which meant yesterday was Saturday, which explained why he hadn’t been at class at all. I had missed so many days this semester due to being unconscious, it was hard to keep track. “How long have I been out for, exactly?”

                “A few days,” he replies. “Potsdam said you didn’t have to go to class this week if you didn’t want to. Between you and me, I’m pretty sure she’s not going to make you take the final either, considering I was present watching you use your magic against Damien. Why put you through a simulation when you survived the real thing?”

                “I tried to snap his neck.” I look up at him sheepishly.

                “Yes, and you failed miserably,” he teases me light-heartedly.

                “We need to have a class on that,” I say. “How to snap someone’s neck in case someone is trying to kill you and your husband.”

                “You were very brave,” he says, his voice lowering a little. “But you were incredibly stupid.”

                “I thought teleporting around the room was smart,” I offer.

                “That was,” he admits. “But you shouldn’t have put yourself in that kind of danger at all.”

                “In all fairness, I thought Ellen needed to see me about something,” I shrug. “But I reached out to you, in case it _was_ something else. I didn’t want you to worry.”

                He smiles softly at me. “It was still very stupid.”

                “As stupid as jumping out a window?” I ask, and he just shakes his head.

                “I didn’t know what were you were doing,” he sighs, rubbing his eyebrow with one hand. “Yes, it got me to listen, but please never, never do that again.”

                “But it got you to listen,” I tease. “But no, Hieronymous, I think we both have had enough danger for a lifetime. At least I have, and I know you have. I don’t want any more suffering or tears or sadness or uncertainty or fears or doubts or anything negative for the rest of my lifetime. I just want you, and me, and this bed, and cuddling, and kisses, forever and ever.”

                Honestly, I don’t even care how childish it sounds. These past few months were probably the worst of my life, and if lying in bed with him all day was enough to make me forget it, then so be it. I bury my face in his chest and wrap my arms around him as he puts his hand comfortingly on the back of my head, smoothing down my hair. After a moment, the sound of my stomach growling breaks the silence.

                “And maybe breakfast.”


	45. Chapter 45

                Apparently, the teachers had been living in the lap of luxury all this time, and I just never knew it.

                I mean, I knew that teachers didn’t exactly eat in our cafeteria, but I figured they were required to eat from their own staff cafeteria if they ever wanted food. I didn’t know that they could basically order from their own personal kitchen and get the food delivered to their door any time they wanted. I remembered how Professor Potsdam had asked me to bring soup up to his door when he was sick last year, but I figured that was a special request sort of thing. I didn’t realize that it was such a common occurrence.

                “I should probably head back to my room, eventually,” I say over my breakfast of eggs and toast. “I’m just not ready to face my roommates yet.”

                “Apparently Potsdam was lying to me,” Hieronymous offers. “Although I suppose this more of a common occurrence than I would care to admit. She said she wiped your roommate’s memories, but she didn’t wipe them. She shielded them.”

                “Does that mean that they could have been in just as much danger of getting stuck as me?” I ask and he shakes his head. “I’m guessing hers was a lot more powerful than Damien’s.”

                “She is extremely powerful, Tori, I don’t want you to ever forget that,” he warns. “Remember, she wants you to be her friend. She wants to be everyone’s friend. It keeps people from suspecting too much.”

                “Suspecting?” I ask, but he shakes his head. “No, no, I mean, no, don’t tell me. It’s not my place to know.”

                He pauses for a moment. “I would’ve thought you would have put up more of a fight. Apparently you can be subject to reason.”

                I wrinkle up my face and stick my tongue out at him. “You said she was watching me everywhere, right? If so, I have no desire to get on the bad side of someone who is more powerful than Damien. I don’t intend to get on _anyone’s_ bad side.”

                “Except mine.” 

                “Well, you, you’re special.”

                “Oh, lucky me.”

                I still couldn’t believe the amount of snark that was passing between us on a regular basis. It was like he was seeing me more as an equal than just a silly child. “Is she still going to be watching me?” I ask cautiously.

                “Pretend she is watching you around the clock,” he replies.

                “Except in here, right?” I ask with a smirk, and he sighs.

                “While I wouldn’t put it past that wretched woman, no, I do believe that in here we are entitled to our privacy,” he says.     

                “Oh no,” I say, my face sinking into my hands. He watches me carefully, his eyes alert. “They know, don’t they?” He just raises an eyebrow at me. “Last year when Damien tried to suck the soul out of that freshman, _everybody_ knew about it. So people know about that? And us?”

                “And you,” he replies curtly. “Word does seem to travel fast around magical communities.”

                “Oh great,” I sink in my seat. “This is going to be worse than last year.”

                “Was last year really so terrible?” he asks in earnest.

                “You read my diary, you tell me,” I retort, and he considers this.

                “Well, you did use some very colorful language,” he replies. “And to be fair, despite my warnings, I did hear a fair amount of gossip, but I never thought it would affect you so strongly.”

                “It’s not the rumors that bother me,” I say. “I don’t care what people think, really, I don’t. I had people asking me all sorts of inappropriate questions at first and sure it was annoying but it wasn’t so bad. But then after a while people just sort of started avoiding me, even Ellen. Like I would come in and she would leave the room; she just wouldn’t talk to me at all.”

                “Yes, I recall.”

                “And that was when, you know, it was just us being married. She wouldn’t talk to me because of _that_. Damien could have seriously hurt her, or worse. And all of this stuff was happening to me and I didn’t tell her or Virginia anything. I put them in serious danger and they could have been really hurt.”

                “They could have been in more in danger if you had told them,” he says patiently. “Don’t blame yourself for that.”

                “You’re right,” I look up at him seriously. “I blame myself for their memories being messed with. They suffered just because they were my roommates, and that’s my fault. They’re not going to forgive me for that.”

                “They didn’t _suffer_ ,” he says. “Their memories were shielded. They were never in any pain, and they were never in the kind of danger you were in.”

                “But now they have to live with that,” I argue, my voice becoming more and more frantic. “They have to live with the fact that their memories were messed with. Are their memories real? Fake? Were their memories wiped and these are just fake memories put in their place? Are certain memories shielded from them? If so, who shielded them? Why would they shield them? What if-?”

                “Tori-“ Hieronymous says sharply, and I look up at him immediately, trying to casually hug the stone around my neck with my fist. My heart is racing and I try to softly take deep breaths in and out without drawing too much attention to myself.

                “It’s fine,” I say. “I’m fine.” He just looks at me like he’s not quite sure.

                “You don’t have to be fine,” he says quietly.

                “Yeah, I do,” I say quickly. “I just-“ I run my hand through my hair, irritated, and he gives me a few minutes to collect myself. “I think you know,” I say after a few minutes. He gives me a strange look, but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask to elaborate, but I am pretty sure he casts an empathy spell on me as a familiar look passes over his face.

                “Didn’t I warn you about becoming bitter before your time?” he murmurs.

                “I’m not _bitter_ ,” I scoff. “I’m nervous and I’m hesitant and I’m afraid, but I’m not _bitter_.” I cross my arms over my chest. “And don’t give me that because I saw your face this morning. You are not bitter either. You are secretly a very happy person when you want to be.”

                “Yes, well.” His familiar demeanor is back, but I’m not quite sure if I’m glad to see it. “Hopefully your roommates will not hold too much ill will towards you.”

                “Yeah,” I shrug.

                “You’ll have to face them eventually,” he says pointedly.

                “Can I stay with you?” I ask, like a little kid asking for an extended bedtime. “Just for a little longer? I just want time by myself, to think, and I don’t know. I’m not ready to go out there yet. I feel like I haven’t actually been _me_ since the year started, and I haven’t had any time to spend with you either. I just want like a solid week to either be just by myself or with you or both, I don’t know.”

                “Spring break is next week,” he informs me.

                “Yeah, but I don’t know if I’m going home to my-“ The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them. He looks seriously alarmed and I sigh, rubbing my temple with the edge of my sleeve as if I’m wiping off dirt.

                “Nevermind,” I sigh. “I guess with everything else going on, I just sort of forget that there is no home for me anymore.” He’s silent for a long while, so I decide to change the subject. “I don’t know what classes I should take this week.”

                “You don’t _have_ to go to class,” he reminds me. “You can always study or go to the gym.”

                I groan as I hold my head in my hands. “Why do I have to have a problem with everything? I don’t want to stay in because I have all of next week off and I need something to take my mind off everything. I don’t want to take blue magic because you’re there, sorry, but I just think we should give it at least a week. I don’t want to take red magic because of Jason and him telling me to stay away from you just seems _really_ weird right now considering he knew I’m your wife, plus he gave me detention, and I don’t know if I trust Potsdam enough right now to take one of her classes. Plus I don’t want to go to the gym. That’s where this whole thing just went down. My blood is still probably seeped into the floorboards or something.”

                I sigh. He’s just giving me this incredulous stare across the table. “You know what, I should go, get out of your hair.”

                “Tori, sit,” he says. I hadn’t even stood up yet. “Tori, I don’t pretend to know how hard this has been for you, or how hard it is going to be. But as your husband, I want you to know-“

                “That you’re there for me?” I ask sarcastically. “Can’t you be there for me because you’re a nice person and not just because you’re my husband?”

                “Have you met me?” he asks. I can tell he’s looking for a witty retort, but I’m in no mood to give one.

                “Yes,” I sigh. “Can you kiss me again? I think that will help me feel better.”

                He nods and I stand up and slide into his lap, straddling him, wrapping my arms around his neck, letting my hands run through his hair. He puts one hand one my lower back and one hand around the nape of my neck, holding me to him. We sit like that for a while, just kissing each other gently. “I am going to get nothing done today,” he murmurs against my lips.

                “Not true,” I say, scooting off his lap and lying down across his bed. “I’ll stay here and keep myself busy, you go do whatever you need to do.” He hesitates for a moment. “Hey, just like last summer, right? You do your work and I just keep myself busy.”

                He hesitates for a moment. “Tori?”

                “Hieronymous?”

                “Did you actually like spending time with me last summer?” he asks. “Did you like just sitting here, reading, while I worked? Or was it just a way to spend time with me?”

                I blink at him. This I was not expecting. “I like it,” I say, trying to keep my tone even. “I mean, I do want to, you know, do stuff with you too, but I like it. I stay in my room a lot, you know. Reading. Thinking. Despite my existence as a silly teenage girl, I think our hobbies are quite similar. Like, if I wasn’t sitting on your bed reading here, I’d be sitting on my bed reading there. And I like being close to you.” I smirk at him. “And this way you can keep an eye on me. So you know I’m not getting into trouble.”

                “Yes, well, I can’t exactly argue with that,” he says, but he still looks deep in thought as he ventures over to his desk to start working.

                “Wait, before you start, do you still have it?” I ask. “My diary?”

                He doesn’t answer. Instead he just gets up and goes to his bookcase. He holds out his hand in front of a blue book, says something under his breath, and my diary immediately slides into his hand from out of thin air. _How did he do that?_

                “Well, I guess I should be grateful that you’re keeping it safe,” I say.

                “You’re going to read your diary?” he asks dubiously. “Or are you asking for it back?”

                “No, it was a gift to you,” I say. “Besides, it’s safe here with you. Considering you stole in from my room once-“

                “ _Potsdam_ stole it from your room,” he corrects me.

                “Potsdam read my diary?” I blurt out in a flush of anger. He sighs and scratches the back of his head.

                “That was more the reaction I was expecting when I told you _I_ had your diary,” he says.

                “Yeah, but the diary was _about_ you,” I say. “It’s like, one long love letter or something.” I blush. “No, she has no right to know that stuff.”

                “Tori, she knows everything on campus,” he says. “But we’ve had this conversation. I have to get back to work.”

                I let him go. Suddenly I don’t want to read my diary, especially when I didn’t know who else had touched these pages. But I had to. I had to read it. I had to make sure my memory was intact, and so I read through every entry, trying to link each one back to a specific memory in my mind. I laugh at some memories, like how Hieronymous bought me chai after the Thanksgiving candle sale. That was our first official date. I blush at other memories, like how we both thought about each over the Christmas blessing, but I have to stop when I get to January 25. Our anniversary.

                I can’t help but grit my teeth when I read over the passage about how Hieronymous had refused to kiss me on our wedding day because he didn’t want to _demean_ himself. I didn’t write what I was really thinking about that in the diary, thankfully, but I did write a longer passage beneath it talking about my confused feelings about being married to him. I close the book shut and gently rap myself on my forehead out of embarrassment.

                “Something the matter?” he asks lightheartedly.

                “Oh, I would tell you, but I don’t think I want to _demean_ myself,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

                An embarrassed smile floats to his face. “I hope you know that I did that for _your_ benefit.”

                “My benefit?” I ask.

                “Would you have preferred our first kiss to be in front of Potsdam and Miss Cochran?”

                My face flushes. “But you weren’t planning on kissing me at all.”

                He simply shrugs and goes back to his work. I sigh and open up my diary. “I am not _opposed_ to the way things turned out.”

                “I-“ I can feel a blush spreading across my cheeks. “Well, neither am I.” I can see the way he’s looking at me so I quickly pick up my diary again. “Excuse me, sir, but I believe you have some work to get done.”

                He chuckles as he gets back to his work, but I spend a long time just staring at the one page of my diary, staring through it. Is that the real reason why he didn’t kiss me? And honestly, did it even matter? We had kissed and done so much more just over the past few days, one kiss didn’t seem like anything. But it had been our _wedding_ kiss. Wasn’t it supposed to be important?

                Nope. Our marriage was unconventional, our relationship was unconventional, and everything about us was unconventional. Time would only tell, of course, but if we were together, I don’t care how it happened; only that it did.

                Around nine o’clock I get up to stretch my legs. Hieronymous looks like he’s busy grading work, so I simply disappear into the bathroom and put my clothes on. They’re still covered in sand, so I do as much as I can to keep the mess contained. If I dumped sand all over his bathroom, Hieronymous may never invite me back. At first I think I’m okay, I think that I can do this, until I put on my still-slightly-wet and torn-up hoodie. Actually, now that I realize it, the shirt underneath is torn too, revealing a section of my midriff on the side. With my hair mussed from rolling around on the bed, and my damp, torn clothes, I look like I just came out of a battle.

                “I should be getting back,” I say as I trudge out of the bathroom. He looks surprised to see me with my normal clothes back on. “You still got work to do and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

                He hesitates. “You are more than welcome to stay here another night-“

                I sigh. “I know. But um, if I’m spending all of Spring Break with you anyway-“

                He narrows his eyes at me. “All of Spring-“

                “I thought-“ I shrug. “Sorry, I thought I mentioned to you that I wanted…nevermind, I’ll just-“

                “Tori,” he sighs, then seems to collect himself. “I would be more than happy to have you here for Spring Break.”

                “But?” I ask, and he raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh, I thought there was a but coming.”

                “With everyone off campus, I simply felt that you might feel safer in my company,” he says, and that’s when I know he definitely has used empathy on me.

                “Thank you,” I say softly. “But for now, I need to go try to work things out with my roommates.” I spread my arms in front of him. “How do I look?”

                “Terrible,” he admits.

                “Oh, good, that’s what I was going for,” I say with a sigh as I look down at my hoodie. “And this was my favorite hoodie.”

                “Tori, you know you can always-“

                “No magic,” I shake my head. “No, I plan on burning this entire outfit.” He gives me a look and I shrug. “I’m only _half_ joking. Now instead of looking at this as the hoodie my parents gave me for my sixteenth birthday, all I see is, ‘look, this is the hoodie you almost died in.’ Besides, I don’t exactly have parents anymore, so it’s not like they’re going to know.”

                I suddenly frown up at him. “Wait, if my parents don’t know I exist, what happened to my room at home? How are they still paying for me to go to school here?”

                He waves his hand dismissively. “There’s a whole department that takes care of Magical Reassignment, I really don’t know too much about it, but your parents are still paying for your education. They think it’s set up as a donation to something or other-“ He shrugs. It doesn’t matter to him. Of course it doesn’t matter to him. He’s not a wildseed, he wouldn’t understand.

                I want to ask him about Violet. What happened to her parents? Did she forget them too? Did she want to? But I can’t ask that. I can never ask that, so I push it to the corner of my mind. I shouldn’t even be thinking about her around him. I shouldn’t think about her at all. He seems to catch the look on my face. “Do you miss your home?”

                “I mean, I had a killer CD collection.” I shrug. Aside from clothes and my laptop and a few books and stuffed animals, there’s nothing else there that I would really miss. Everything that was essential I had packed with me.

                “You like music?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

                “I love music,” I say. “But uh, my music is a bit, louder, than your music, I think. You know, guitar riffs, and all that.”

                “Ah.”

                “But that’s in the past,” I shrug. “Old life, old Tori, so I should probably get out of her clothes.”

                “Just-“ he hesitates then sighs. “I know you are struggling right now. I understand what that’s like. But don’t be so quick to disregard your past. Something may yet be of some use to you.”

                I know he’s speaking from experience, and idly I wonder how much of his past he let go of. How much of it he had to take back. “Yeah, well, wish me luck with my roommates. I’m going to need it.”

                He cups my face in his hands and kisses me delicately. “You have my luck, but you’re not going to need it.”

                “Yeah,” I sigh. “Cause believe me, if I survived all this just for my roommates to kill me, I am going to be _pissed_.”


	46. Chapter 46

                I’m glad there aren’t many people out and about at this time of night. If there were, I would probably be getting more than a few stares, not just because I wasn’t in my robes, but because my clothes were torn and covered with stains that they could correctly assume to be blood. I looked like I had just walked off the battle field, and I quickly pick up the pace as I continue walking.  

                I quietly cross the quad and head up the stairs to Horse Hall, standing outside my door. It was strange; it didn’t feel like my door. If anything, I felt like I should knock. Instead, I just turned the doorknob slowly and walked inside.

                Virginia and Ellen were sitting on their respective beds, with Donald sitting on mine. As soon as I opened up the door, all eyes snapped to me. No one moved. No one said anything. “Hi,” I manage, but it came out almost like a whisper.

                “I should probably go,” Donald says slowly. He gets up and makes his way past me out the door without looking at me once.

                I wait until the door shuts behind me. “Are you guys okay? Ellen?” Ellen looks away.

                “She doesn’t really want to talk to you right now,” Virginia snaps. “Where have you been?”

                “I’m sorry, it takes a few days to recover from being technically dead,” I snap back. Ellen looks up, but Virginia holds her ground.

                “Technically dead? You don’t look dead to me.” I’m about to respond when she continues, “And we didn’t hear anything that you _died_.”

                “Right, because I’m sure all the teachers would volunteer that two students just died in their gymnasium in the middle of the night.”

                “Two students?” Virginia asks, and I stare at her in confusion.

                “Damien, he’s dead.” I look between her and Ellen. “He is dead.”

                “That’s not what Potsdam said,” Ellen says slowly. “She said that he was gone and could never come back.”

                “And I’m pretty sure dead also fits that description,” I say testily.

                “Then why didn’t she tell anyone else that?” Virginia asks.

                “Again, I don’t think people would be happy if word got out that one student died and another student _almost_ died at Iris Academy, right under the teacher’s noses. This school does have a reputation to maintain, after all.”

                “So what happened?” Virginia asks. “And tell us the truth this time.”

                “The truth is that Tommy was Damien,” I explain. “The truth is this entire year I was being played. He completely wiped my memory of Hieronymous, I ended up in a coma for a while – remember, when I was supposedly sick? – and then ‘Tommy’ tried to kiss me. Because if I kissed him and liked him back, the Manus that caused me to marry Hieronymous in the first place would kill me for breaking my marriage vows and Hieronymous could have lost his magic _and_ his memories.” I cross my arms over my chest. “So this was kind of a delicate situation. And I kind of also wasn’t allowed to be aware of _any of it,_ considering if I did, I could have gone into a coma and never woken up, which, again, almost happened, by the way.”

                “Hey, because of _you_ , we had to have our memories wiped too,” Virginia retorts.

                “Shielded, not wiped,” I explain. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to remember everything now.”

                “Do _you_ remember everything now?” Ellen asks.

                “I only hope,” I say before letting out a long sigh. “Look, I’m sorry for getting you guys involved in this, I really am. But I didn’t _know_ that Potsdam was wiping or shielding or doing whatever to your memories because at the time I also wasn’t aware that my own memories were compromised.”

                “But how can we be sure all our memories are back?” Virginia asks.

                “Welcome to every day of the rest of my life,” I reply. “At least, you know, you had Potsdam doing her memory magic on you. Why would she want to erase your memories?” They’re both silent. I have a point. t

                “So where have you been?” Ellen asks. “After they found us, rumors were going around that you had attacked us, before Professor Potsdam had an assembly and told everyone what happened.”

                “That I attacked you?” I ask blankly. “Why would I attack you?”

                “It was general confusion,” Virginia chimes in. “No one knew what was going on. They found Ellen and me, and then when you never came back…”

                “Oh,” I say softly. “Yeah, that must have been when I was dead.”

                “So where have you been all this time?” Virginia asks. “Besides recovering from dying? With your husband? We weren’t sure if you were ever coming back.”

                “I was in a secret location that I’m not actually allowed to reveal the location of,” I say. “You know, they had to make sure that my mind wasn’t even more compromised than it already was.”

                “And is your mind back to the way it was?” Virginia asks.

                “I hope so,” I sigh.

                “Do you know how much of a violation it was?” Virginia asks. “For her to just shield our own memories from us? She doesn’t want us to talk about it with anyone else, but she said it was okay to talk about it with you.”

                “Probably because I know what it’s like?” I ask. “Like, I’m sorry this happened, I really am, but blame Damien. He’s the one who-“

                “I told you to stay away from him last year,” Virginia snaps. “If you hadn’t gone off flirting with him-“

                “Yes, and I was totally supposed to know that he was going to work up a whole sick plan of revenge and come after me and my husband.”

                “You keep saying husband,” Ellen notices. “Does that mean you two are going to stay together now?”

                “At least for now,” I admit. “I just need…“ I let my voice trail off as I hold the stone delicately in my fingers, waiting to feel his heart beat.

                “So he’s the one who gave you that stone?” Virginia asks. “Figures. I figured Tommy didn’t. No way a freshman wildseed could just find one of those.”

                “Yeah, just, please don’t tell anyone,” I sigh. “I mean, I know last year our marriage was everyone’s hot gossip, and now this year-“

                “You’re still everyone’s hot gossip,” Virginia confirms.

                “Are you the one who killed Damien?” Ellen pipes up.

                “No,” I admit. “Potsdam did, I think.”

                “Can you tell us what happened that night?” Ellen asks. “From the beginning?”

                I don’t want to. I really don’t want to relive it. “I at least owe you that much, I guess,” I say eventually. “When I came back to the room after the test, I noticed a note from you saying to meet you in the gym and not to tell any of the teachers, but I had a bad feeling about it, so I sort of reached out to Hieronymous, just to let him know where I was going-“

                “Wait, why would you reach out to him if you didn’t know he was your husband?” Virginia asks.

                “Because I still had _feelings_ for him,” I say quickly, pleased that I was now at least capable of expressing interest in my husband without blushing. “Anyway, Tommy was there. He taunted me, revealed himself to be Damien, said he was doing this to spite Professor Grabiner for being mean to him for four years-“

                “And this is why he really should not be that mean to students,” Virginia notes.

                “-and because I rejected him,” I admit. “So um, Hieronymous revealed himself, and we fought. Damien warded the gym so we couldn’t get out with super strong Otherworld magic, so I teleported behind him and tried to snap his neck and-“

                “You what?” Virginia practically shouts.

                “I ran out of magic,” I say loudly. “Anyway, Hieronymous fought valiantly, but he got pinned to a wall, and Damien silenced him and sucked his magic so he was trapped.”

                “And you came to his rescue?” Virgina asks, although she sounds pretty sarcastic about it.

                “No, that’s when Damien pushed _me_ against a wall,” I say, my face turning serious. “He, um, he stabbed me in the shoulder with something. I don’t know, I just, I felt my entire left side go numb. But it wasn’t _numb_. It hurt a lot, like something was trying to hack my arm off with a cleaver at the joint or something. I tried to reach out to Hieronymous, in my mind, and I tried to see if there was some way to end the marriage like, right then, so he would still be okay if I died. He told me that he was reaching out for Potsdam and to just stall.”

                They were silent. “So then, um, Damien gave me a choice. That he was going to kill one of us, well, he said he was going to kill both of us but I could decide which one of us died first. And, I, uh-“ My hands are shaking, so I hold onto the edge of my bed to calm myself. “I told him to kill me. I figured Potsdam would get there before they killed Hieronymous. So, he um, he attacked me.” I hold out my shredded hoodie for them to see.

                “He, um, ripped through me somehow? I’m not sure. There was a lot of blood and stuff. It felt like he had put, like, a fireball in my stomach and it just melted all my skin and stuff away. My ribs were like-“ Ellen gasps and puts her hand to her mouth, so I stop. “I tried to smile at Hieronymous, to let him know that I would be okay, but I could feel my blood just dripping out of my mouth, and then I couldn’t like, breathe. And then there was this bright flash of light and then I was on the ground and I was trying to talk to him, talk to Hieronymous and tell him it would all be okay, but I didn’t know if he heard any of it because I was all…” I rub my throat. “…gargly. And then yeah. I blacked out. And Hieronymous said I was technically dead. I guess Professor Potsdam or someone with a lot of green magic was able to bring me back.”

                “Green magic can’t bring people back from the dead,” Virginia starts.

                “Almost dead then,” I shrug. “It just…hurt. A lot.”

                “But that happened last week,” she says.

                “Yeah,” I hold my arms out in front of me. “And I’m still wearing the same clothes from last week. So um, if it’s all the same to you, I think I need a shower and a change.” They don’t say anything as I grab some pajamas and leave the room.

                I had told them the truth, or as much of the truth as I wanted to reveal, anyway. They didn’t need to know about my romantic weekend with Hieronymous. They had peppered all of my summer comments about him with “eww, too much information!” so I didn’t really see a reason to share it with them now.

                I went into the bathroom and stood under the hot water until it ran cold, which, at a magical school, takes a considerably long time. On the way back to our room, I dumped my old clothes in the trash bin in the corridor: hoodie, shirt, jeans, sneakers, socks: if it touched my body that day, it was gone. Everything except the stone Hieronymous gave me that was linked to his heartbeat. I could _never_ get rid of that.

                By the time I got back to the room, both Virginia and Ellen were already asleep, and I was grateful for it. I got into my bed and got under the covers, but I couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong, like I wasn’t supposed to be there. The bed was mine, the pillowcase, the sheets, the blankets, were all mine, and yet it felt like it belonged to someone else.

                I wrapped my fingers around the stone and closed my eyes, letting the soothing pulse of his heartbeat wash over me. Even still, it was a long time until I was able to fall asleep.


	47. Chapter 47

                “They’re still making you go to class?” Virginia asks as she sees me getting ready the next morning. “I thought they would’ve given you like a week off or something.”

                “Well, spring break is next week,” I say. “I should probably go to class and get my mind off things.”

                “So are you going to Grabby, sorry, Grabiner’s class?”

                I force a smile in her direction. “You can still call him Grabby around me. I don’t care. I actually think I’ve called him Grabby to his face a few times too.”

                “Aren’t you supposed to respect him if he’s your husband?” Ellen asks.

                “I respect him,” I say. “We have an understanding.” I feel a blush rising to my cheeks. “It’s complicated-“

                “Yeah, yeah, we don’t really want to know,” Virginia says, and I hold up my hands innocently.

                With that conversation left hanging between us, I make my way out the door and head to Professor Potsdam’s class, making sure to get there early. I’m the first one in the classroom and she’s sitting behind the teacher’s desk, reading from a big book.

                “Well, hello, Tori, dear,” she says as I walk into the room. “How are you feeling?”

                “Um, okay, I guess,” I shrug. “As good as I can be, considering.”

                “And things with Hieronymous?” she asks. “When he came back to tell me that he wanted to cancel the severance…why, I couldn’t believe it. But I’m so happy for you, if I knew anyone could talk some sense into that man, it would be you.”

                “Thanks,” I blush and look away. “And um, Professor, I just wanted to thank you and all. For saving my life, back there in the gym.” I know that she’s the one who almost let me get killed in the first place, but I remember what Hieronymous had told me yesterday. I want to stay on her good side.

                “Hush,” she says. “Now, didn’t Hieronymous tell you that you should take it easy this week?”

                “He did,” I reply. “But considering next week is Spring Break, I figured I should apply myself now.”

                “Such a studious girl, I can see what Hieronymous sees in you,” she says. “If you never need anything, anything at all dear, please let me know. You have shown remarkable bravery and courage standing up to-“ she lowers her voice. “-you know.”

                I can hear the chatter of other students getting louder as they enter the classroom, so I quickly thank her and take my seat. I get a few looks from other students as they enter the classroom, but no one says anything directly to me, and I don’t say anything to them. I idly wonder who started the rumor that I had attacked my roommates, but it probably won’t do me well to dwell on it. It didn’t really matter who started the rumors; I just wanted it over with.

                Class starts and finishes without incident, but apparently word of my reappearance on school grounds has floated around, and the barrage of whispers begins as soon as I walk out the door into the flow of students in the corridor.

                _“Look, there she is.”_

_“Oh, that’s the girl who attacked her roommates, right?”_

_“No, they say some guy who was expelled last year did it.”_

_“Yeah? What happened to him?”_

_“You heard Potsdam. It’s supposedly none of our business.”_

_“Oh, maybe she was_ dating _him.”_

 _“Haven’t you heard? She’s not_ dating _anyone. She’s married to that crabby old Professor Grabby.”_

 _“Oh,_ that’s _probably how she’s been earning her grades.”_

                My hands are shaking. I want to yell at someone, anyone, but I know very well that that will _not_ help me right now. Just when I’m about to make a run for it, I feel a hand on my arm. It’s Donald. “Hey, come with me.”

                I sigh and walk with him down the long corridor. Maybe this is why Potsdam didn’t want me going to class the first week. Maybe she wanted to wait for all the rumors to blow over. Everyone would probably forget about me with all the latest Spring Break gossip, and what with finals and the May Day Ball and summer, people would stop thinking about me.

                “Thanks,” I say when we’re out of the school.

                “Can we talk?” Donald asks, and his expression is more serious than I’ve ever seen it.

                “Yeah, where do you want to go?”

                “The trails?” he asks. “Would you be okay with that?” I think about it for a moment. It’s where Damien attacked me and wiped my memories. It’s where Damien-then-Tommy tried to kiss me. No, I don’t really want to go on the trails.

                “There’s a bunch of benches by the staff side of campus,” I say. “Come on.”

                “Are we allowed to be over there?” Donald asks.

                “Well, I mean, I know I’m not supposed to get any special privileges for being married to a teacher,” I say. “But I don’t think sitting on a bench counts as a special privilege.”

                We walk over and eventually sit down, the bench facing out towards the quad and the rest of the classrooms. I pull my knees to my chest and curl my arms around them. “This sucks.”

                “What sucks?” Donald looks surprised.

                “Everything,” I reply.

                “Is being married to Grabby really that bad?” he asks.

                “Not Grabby,” I say quickly, letting out a small laugh. “No, Hieronymous is…he’s not as bad as he seems in class. You have to get to know him.”

                Donald makes a face, like he still isn’t too sure. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t believe the rumors that you attacked them.”

                “Thanks,” I reply. “I mean, I know people always thought I was a little weird and all, but I didn’t think people would think I was like, violent or anything.”

                “Well, there were also rumors that you got detention for attacking Minnie Cochran,” he says.

                “I didn’t _attack_ her,” I sigh. “And anyway, that was when I was having partial memory loss. It was starting to drive me crazy.”

                He hesitates, fidgeting with his robes. “So Damien really got back on campus? As Tommy?”

                “Yeah,” I say quietly, looking over at him. “I mean, you and Tommy, you guys were friends, right?”

                “At the beginning of the year, yeah,” Donald admits. “And then he started to, I don’t know, change. Sometimes it would feel like I was talking to Tommy, and then other times it felt like I was talking to a whole different person.”

                “Well, I’m glad you picked up on it,” I sigh. “I didn’t.”

                “But I should have said something,” Donald says. “You were in danger. Ellen was in danger-“

                “So, Tommy was acting weird,” I shrug. “I mean, that didn’t mean he was _Damien._ You didn’t know that he was like, the evilest of evil beings. It’s not your fault.”

                Donald is quiet for a long time. “There’s a lot of people that don’t believe it, you know.”

                “Believe what?”

                “That Damien did it?”

                I turn to look at him. “What?”

                “Well,” he starts. “I mean, I don’t think you’d attack them. And you stood up for me last year when the fire broke out and you believed that I didn’t do it. So I believe you. But Damien wasn’t supposed to be on school grounds after what he did last year, so how did he get in? And no one saw him on campus or anything, and the freshman don’t know who he is, so all they know of him is just rumors.” He hesitates. “But some people say that Potsdam is only lying about it being Damien to protect you, since you’re married to a teacher.”

                “What?” I gasp. “Who would say that?”

                “I don’t know,” he shakes his head. “Do you know what happened to Tommy? The real one? They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

                “I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head.

                “Some people say he returned to his family and gave up magic.” Donald shrugs. “I mean, yeah, there’s always the possibility. But it’s also possible that Damien killed him.”

                “He killed me,” I offer, and Donald gives me a strange look. “I mean, my heart may have stopped beating. My guts were like, _bleh!,_ you know.”

                “Are you okay?” Donald asks, his face filled with concern. I shake my head in the affirmative. “Do you have any scars?”

                “Nope,” I say. “I guess that’s one of the benefits to green magic? I don’t know, I don’t think I’d really mind if I did have scars though. Something to help me remember, you know?”

                “So do you have all your memories back?” Donald asks.

                “Yeah,” I shrug. “But I mean, I can’t help but feel tampered with, you know? Like Potsdam read my diary from last year and everything, it feels like all my privacy just went _whoosh_ , into the void that my memories were stuck in.”

                “Ellen told me about that,” he says. “Apparently her memories were shielded too.”

                “Potsdam is the one who did the spell though,” I say. “So she was safe. She never was in the kind of danger that I was.”

                “But that’s still not right,” Donald shakes his head. “She didn’t ask to be a part of this. She just got sucked into it because she was your roommate.”

                “And I didn’t ask to have my memories stolen or to almost be killed,” I say, my voice rising slightly. “It just happened, okay. And she’s okay now, Donald, she’s fine.”

                We’re silent for a while. Clouds start to form overhead, and it looks like it might rain again soon. “I should tell you something,” Donald says at length. “They don’t really want to be around you right now.”

                “Around me?” I echo.

                “Well, I know you’re getting the hard part of it,” he says. “But they’re not immune to it either. People were hounding them all night and day when it first happened, asking for details. Now that you’re back, people have been asking them all sorts of questions about you. They don’t want to deal with it.”

                “They shouldn’t have to.” My shoulders slump and I hug my knees to me just a little bit tighter. “And I’m sorry for it, I really am. I don’t know what else to say.” We sit in silence for a little bit longer. “So, is it that they don’t trust me anymore or-?”

                “Remember last year?” Donald asks. “When all the rumors were going around that you married Grabby, and people were knocking on your door all night and day?”

                “How can I forget?” I murmur.

                “Well, you didn’t tell them anything then,” he says. “I mean, they know why you couldn’t tell them, but at the same time, they feel like you could have told them _something_ , so they were at least in the know when all the rumors started going around. They’re your roommates, and they felt as out of the loop as everyone else.”

                “Well-“

                “And then this year,” Donald continues. “You start acting really weird, and you’re quiet and in your room all the time, and then suddenly they get attacked. And the constant knocking on the door starts again. And all the questions.”

                “I-“

                “You’re drama,” Donald finishes, and my jaw drops. Drama? At my old school, I was the one who never had a boyfriend, the one who could spend weekends in my room just listening to music, the one who studied hard and never complained about anything, but was always quick with a joke and a hug. I had friends there, and what’s more, I had a good reputation. Even people that didn’t know me were happy when I was paired up with them for class projects, because I could always be counted on. I was the _opposite_ of drama in my old school. And now I was suddenly drama? Suddenly no one wanted to be around me anymore? How did I change so much in a mere two years? “You may not try to be, but you are. And they don’t want to deal with that.”

                “So what am I supposed to do?” I ask.

                “They’re hoping you’ll move out,” Donald says. “They didn’t _tell_ me to tell you that that’s what they want, but they don’t want you as a roommate anymore.”

                “Where am I supposed to go?” I demand.

                Donald shrugs. “I mean, technically you are married-“

                “Are you kidding me?” I ask. “I don’t think I have to tell you that married or not, Hieronymous values his space _and_ his privacy. I’d probably be better off trying to get a room in one of the dungeons.”

                “I just felt like I should warn you,” he said. “They want to approach you about it but after what you’ve been through, they don’t know how you’ll react.”

                “So they’re afraid of me?” I ask flatly.

                He shrugs. “I don’t know if afraid is the right word, but with everything that’s happened between this year and last year-“

                “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I snap. I let out a frustrated sigh as I run my hands through my hair. “So what are we then? Are we still friends?”

                He shrugs. “Were we ever friends? Really?”

                “What?” I ask in surprise. “Of course we are. I mean, we built that snowman together last year, and you told me about your family, and then we played in the arcade with Tommy almost every weekend this fall-“

                “Yeah, but that’s just because we ran in the same circles.” He shrugs. “I mean, things are different now. Ellen’s my girlfriend. Virginia’s my sister. If I hang out with you, and they find out about it, they’re both going to give me a hard time, you know?”

                “And?” I ask. “Last year you were pranking Virginia all the time. You couldn’t care less if she didn’t like you.”

                “But since I’ve been dating Ellen, things have been different between us.” Donald sighs. “And I don’t want to mess that up. I’m sorry about everything you’ve been through, I really am, but-“

                “You’re choosing sides.” I take a deep breath. Part of me wants to slap him. Part of me understands. “No, I mean, I get it. Your sister and your girlfriend. I get it.”

                “So that’s why I’m telling you,” he says. “Giving you some warning. Hopefully it makes us square.”

                “Yeah,” I mutter bitterly. “We’re square.”

                “Well, look on the bright side,” Donald says. “Now you and Grabby are in a league of your own. You’re like, the husband and wife of ostracization. The weird couple at the end of the block who everyone suspects eats the local missing children-“

                “Thanks,” I say quickly, a touch of venom in my voice. “Anyway, thanks for the warning. I should probably head back and confront them about it.”

                “Good luck,” Donald says. He gets up and starts to head back as I rub my temple with the sleeve of my robes.

                Hadn’t I been through enough for one year?


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was short, so I'm posting two today!! Cheers!!

                I sigh and walk back to the dorms, shoulders squared at attention. There are still people in the quad, but with the first raindrops of another storm beginning to fall, people are scurrying out of the rain back indoors. I just sweep my way across the quad, jaw set firm with resolve. Maybe this is why it felt weird to step into my room the other day, why it felt weird to sleep in my bed. It wasn’t mine anymore, not really. They didn’t want me there. It wasn’t my room anymore.

                When I got back to the room, Virginia and Ellen were both in there, studying. “We should talk,” I say quickly. They both look up at each other and exchange glances.

                “About what?” Ellen asks, as if she really doesn’t know.

                I sigh and rub my temple. I don’t have time to play games. “Okay, let’s just get it all out on the table. I don’t pretend to know how hard it has been for both of you putting up with the rumors, both this year and last, but it has come to my attention that you don’t want me to be your roommate anymore.”

                Virginia crosses her arms and huffs, looking away. _Donald’s in trouble._

                “We-we-we-“ Ellen stammers. “We just thought that, after everything, you would be moving in with Professor Grabiner.”

                I tell her what I told Donald. “You have met him, haven’t you? You know how much he values his space and his privacy.”

                An uncomfortable silence descends on the room. “Okay, you know what, I’ll make you a deal,” I say. “I’ll talk to Potsdam about getting a new room for next year. But as for this year, I won’t sleep here, I won’t study here, but I will need to come back to the room from time to time to get clothes and stuff. I’ll _try_ to do it when neither of you are here. Is that an acceptable deal?”

                “Where would you sleep?” Ellen asks.

                “Not your concern,” I say firmly. “Not with Hieronymous, though, if that’s what you’re asking.”

                “Fine,” Virginia says suddenly. I turn to look at her. “Fine, deal.”

                “Okay then,” I say. “I’ll just sort through a few things and then I’ll get out of your hair.” An uncomfortable silence descends on the room as I make my way past them over to my bed along the far wall. I hoist my suitcase on top of it and then open my dresser, beginning to sort through my clothes. Virginia makes some sort of motion to Ellen, as they move almost in unison off of their respective beds and then out the door.

                _No wonder Hieronymous prefers no one’s company but his own,_ I think bitterly. I can appreciate that they had a hard time being questioned about stuff, but I’m the one who had to go through everything; I’m the one that lived it. And now I was being ostracized for it. As I pack my stuff into my suitcase, I think about Hieronymous. I think about how he felt when he lost Violet, how sick and lonely he felt. Did people spread rumors about him too? Did they tell everyone that she died because it was his fault? Did people say that he had just abandoned her in the Otherworld? Is that when he simply abandoned all social conventions and kept to his own company? If so, I could almost completely understand how he felt, and that was something I’d never thought I’d ever say. Fortunately I’ve never had anyone that I was close to die less than two feet in front of me, but I did come pretty close to dying myself. I’m not sure which one’s worse, and I don’t want to compare the two.

                It doesn’t take me a long time to finish packing my suitcase with all of my things. The blankets and pillows were all issued by the school, and so they weren’t mine to keep anyway. In fact, the only thing that I had in my suitcase besides clothes and books and toiletries were some pictures of my family, but that was it. My room at home was always full of useless trinkets, a stone off the sidewalk that I thought looked pretty or various knick-knacks from when I went on vacation with my parents. Was I really changing this much? Who was I becoming? Who would Future Tori be? Would I like her?

                I enchant my suitcase to make sure no one else can open it, grab a book, and leave the room, heading for the mail room. I don’t think I’m supposed to be in here, but I could really care less right now. I’m not going to bother Potsdam with a room assignment yet. I have no idea where she’ll put me, and I really don’t want to add changing rooms to the top of my list of things to worry about right now, especially when I have no idea who my new roommates would be. Where would she even put me? In another room in Horse Hall? In Butterfly Hall? I definitely wouldn’t fit in there. In Snake Hall? I feel like my current reputation makes me even stranger than Suki.

                I unlock the door and slip inside, making sure no one noticed me, before locking the door behind me. The whole room all to myself. I head over to the couch against one wall and sprawl out, propping up my book in front of me. I open up to the bookmarked page, but I can’t focus for some reason. I glance over the top of the book and look around, when suddenly it hits me. I’ve been in this room almost every weekend since I got here, but this is the first time I’m really letting it sink in that this is the place where the Manus almost killed me. If Professor Potsdam hadn’t intervened when she did, the Manus would have definitely killed me, and then none of this would have happened.

                “Is there one place on this freaking campus that I haven’t died?” I mutter to myself. I close up the book and hug it to my chest. For some reason, I feel extremely introspective, but not about the current situation. I’m thinking about the future. I have two more years here, and then what? Supposing I actually survive my time here, what will I do then? Will I leave? Go off to some magical college and get a degree in something? Professor Potsdam said that most magic people choose to live in the Otherworld, where magic flows more freely, but Hieronymous would _never_ let me step foot in the Otherworld, I don’t even need to ask about that.

                I fiddle with the ends of my hair. So what am I supposed to do then? I’ve almost died in this room. I’ve almost died in the gym. I don’t want to go on the trails because I was attacked there twice. Is there nowhere on this campus that I feel safe? I feel safe in Hieronymous’ room, but I can’t exactly just lock myself in there for the rest of my life.

                My stomach drops suddenly, so hard that I feel nauseous. It all comes to me in a rush, so fast that I find myself desperately clawing at my robes to grab the stone around my neck. As of right now, I don’t want to stay on this campus longer than I have to. But even if I went away to a magical college, what then? Heironymous would still be here. He would still be teaching, and living at the school, probably even after my four years at college were up. And then what? What would I do? Where would I go? I could get a job near the school and get an apartment, probably, but he would still be living at the school. I could see him on weekends…was this what he meant when he said magical couples usually live separately? Maybe some choose to go and live in the Otherworld while their spouses stay in this world?

                I hold my head in my hands and cry. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it. With everything that had happened today, between Donald and Virginia and Ellen and my classmates, I am completely overwhelmed. I don’t want to deal with this. I can put off thinking about my future and college for at least another year or so yet, but I at least now have a better perspective as to why Hieronymous was so opposed to our marriage and my feelings for him in the first place.

                “It’s not going to work out, is it?” I mumble. Hieronymous was right. I am a stupid girl. When I was crying my eyes out on that beach, why didn’t I think of this? I was so self-righteous, fighting for this stupid relationship, that I didn’t even realize that our age difference makes more of an impact than I thought. He has his teaching, that’s his job, but what about me? Am I just going to be his wife for the rest of my life? Is that really why I came to school to study magic? Just so I could accidently marry my professor and fall in love with him and spend the rest of my life with him?

                I try to think it over. Why did I want to study magic? Because I thought it would be cool, like when I saw people doing magic in the movies? Because it made me different? Because no one at home could do magic, and it made me feel special? I didn’t really think about what kinds of jobs I could get in my future; I didn’t really think about my future at all. I just thought, hey, an opportunity to learn magic? Sign me up. But here, everyone could do magic. Here, aside from the fact that I was married to a teacher, I was not remarkable in any way. I was smart, but there was always someone who was smarter. I did well in blue magic, but there was always someone who did better. Here, I was not extraordinary. Here, I was just ordinary. Here, I was just Tori, nothing more, nothing less.

                I lay back and close my eyes. Should I tell Hieronymous how I’m feeling? Would it make me feel better? Would it make me feel worse? There was nothing he could do about it right now, anyway, so there was no point in saying anything. But would I eventually come to resent him if I didn’t say anything?

                I sigh and try to cast a sleep spell on myself. It’s still early yet, but there’s no reason for me to be awake. There’s no reason why I should be having all of these thoughts. There’s no reason why I should be worried about my future. The school year wasn’t over yet. I may not yet have one.


	49. Chapter 49

                Staying in the mail room wasn’t as bad as I had initially thought. My mood didn’t really improve, but I didn’t really expect it to. No one came in, no one bothered me; it was almost as if I had found my own nice little cave to bury myself in, to tuck myself away from the world. I briefly considered that I was literally becoming just like Hieronymous, but I quickly distanced myself from that thought. The next two days I went to green magic, ignored my classmates’ rumors and staring gazes, went back to my room, got some clean clothes, showered, and then went to the mail room for the rest of the night.

                But on Thursday, things were a little different. I still went to green magic. I still went to my room to get a clean set of clothes and shower. I still went to the mail room, but when I unlocked the door, I noticed the shadow of a figure already waiting for me inside. “Prof-professor Potsdam?” I ask.

                “Come in, dear,” she says softly.

                I do, closing the door behind me. At first I’m wondering why she was waiting for me inside a dark room, but then it occurred to me. Didn’t Hieronymous tell me that she was watching me around the clock? She had probably been studying my afternoon habits for several days now.

                “Is there something I can help you with?” I ask.

                She smiles sweetly at me, but her smile looks a little sad. “Tori, you know you’re not supposed to be in here when you’re not doing your treasury duties.”

                “Oh, I uh-“ I consider lying to her, telling her that Hieronymous asked me to run an errand, but there’s no point. She’ll know I’m lying, and that will only make things worse.

                “Your roommates came to speak with me,” she says. “They were quite concerned with where you had been staying the past few nights.”

                My _roommates_ sold me out? I try not to let my frustration show. “Professor Potsdam, they weren’t comfortable with me staying in the room, after everything that happened.” I try to make my face as earnest and sincere as possible. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors and things that people are saying. They were knocking on the door at all hours and asking them questions about me and what happened, and they just didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. I didn’t mean to cause trouble; I just didn’t want to be any more trouble to _them_.”

                “Yes, yes, I understand,” she says. “Your roommates already explained, and I have your new room assignment all set up.”

                “All set up?” She moves aside and I see my suitcase leaning against a table behind her.

                “I believe all of your things were already in your suitcase?” she asks.

                “Uh, yeah,” I say quickly. “Yeah, everything’s packed.”

                “Good, then if you’ll take your suitcase and follow me?” I grab the handle of my suitcase and wheel it along behind her. I follow her through the dorms, which are thankfully empty, and out into the quad.

                “Um, professor, where are we going?” I ask. “The dorms are all back there.”

                “Oh, I have a special room assignment just for you,” she says. I bite my lip. Am I really so ostracized by the students that she’s giving me my own room in the staff building? I mean, at least I’d have my own room, so that would be nice. And my own bathroom. Maybe this whole thing will actually work out in my favor for once.

                “Professor,” I say. “I’m sorry that I’m causing you all this trouble. I mean, I’m sure you have better things to be doing right now.” I don’t know why I say it; it just feels important that I do.

                “Tori-“ She stops and turns to me. “I understand that things are difficult for you right now. You lost your memories, you lost your parents, and you lost your friends. It’s understandable that you’re going to need a little time on your own to work things out.”

                “Um, thank you,” I say, only because I’m not sure what else I really can say to that.

                As we reach the staff building, she leads me up to the second floor and that’s when the reality of where she’s placing me sinks in. “Oh, no, no, no, Professor, I can’t do this.”

                “Whatever do you mean?” she asks, as we walk down the hallway to Hieronymous’ door.

                “He values his space _and_ his privacy,” I say for the third time that week. _Seriously, how does no one else realize this? And her of all people._ “He will consider it an impertinence.”

                “Nonsense,” she says. “It’ll just take you two some time to adjust to each other, that’s all. But you’re married. It’ll all come in time.”

                “He’s the one who told me married couples were supposed to be independent and live separately,” I blurt out.

                She looks at me. “Nonsense,” she repeats firmly. “You know as well as I why he would say such a silly thing. True, there are some who prefer to live here and some who prefer to live in the Otherworld, but you know his thoughts on that place.” I nod. “He’s just shy. I’m sure he’ll come around in time.”

                “Or I’ll be sleeping in the dungeons this night and every other night for the rest of my life,” I mope.

                “Oh, don’t cause such a fuss,” she says. “Besides, I’d notice if you stopped showing up to all of my classes.” She winks at me and I offer her a weak smile as she knocks on the door to Hieronymous’ room.

                The smile quickly slips from my face and I bend my head down to study my shoes. I can hear the door open as he looks between Professor Potsdam and myself. “Hieronymous, Tori and I need to speak to you on an issue of _great_ importance.”

                “Come in,” he says solemnly, stepping back into the room. I let her go first and then try to carry my suitcase behind me as inconspicuously as possible as I shut the door.

                “What’s happened now?” he asks, although his voice is rough with irritation. _Oh great. He’s not in a good mood. This is going to go badly._

“Tori’s going to be your new roommate!” Professor Potsdam practically exclaims, throwing out both arms in my direction, as if she was suddenly welcoming him to a surprise birthday party.

                He stares her up and down, completely ignoring me. “What on earth are you going on about, woman?”

                “Well,” she begins. “Tori’s roommates aren’t _completely_ comfortable having her around, and so she’s been sleeping in the mail room the past few nights-“

                “What?” His eyes snap to me and I look away, embarrassed.

                “-and we can’t have students sleeping all over the school, so I figured, why not have her just stay with you?” She smiles and claps her hands at her “clever” idea. “You’re already married; it’s the perfect way to get to know each other better.”

                “No,” he says firmly, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

                “Hieronymous, really,” she says sharply. “You know we’re already short on rooms as it is. You want me to place her in one of the boy’s dorms?”

                I look up quickly. _A wolf? Am I going to be a wolf now?_ I look back to see Hieronymous watching me intently. “Was this your idea?”

                “No,” I say quickly. “No, and, in fact, I think I should go back and talk to them. I mean, they  are both extremely reasonable people; I think we can all work this out. Huge misunderstanding, so sorry to bother you, I should go.”

                “Isn’t she precious?” Potsdam asks, as if I’m a kitten struggling to walk around in those little mitt boots.

                 Hieronymous stares at her for a moment. “I said no.”

                “Enough,” she snaps. I have never heard her snap before. My insides coil up on themselves, and I shut my mouth instantly. Fortunately, she recovers herself almost immediately. “As I said, this will be a good opportunity to get to know each other better, and Tori needs a place where she can feel safe.”

                He doesn’t say anything. She just turns to me and pats me on the shoulder. “You just let me know if there is _anything_ else I can do for you, Tori, dear.”

                “Thanks,” I croak.

                She gives another pointed look back at Hieronymous before she shuts the door.

                I close my eyes and flinch, not ready to face him yet. “Tori, what on earth is going on?” He sounds more exasperated than angry, which is probably a good thing. I can wind him down from exasperated. I don’t want him to be angry with me.

                I turn to him, letting out a deep breath. “Are you aware that there are rumors going around the school that _I’m_ the one who attacked my roommates?”

                He sighs, his mouth pressed in a firm line. “I am aware.”

                “Then you’re aware of _all_ the other rumors?” I ask.

                “Which, specifically?”

                “I don’t know, there are tons,” I sigh. “People are always banging on the door and asking weird questions. They didn’t want to put up with it anymore, so they got Donald to ask me to leave. So I left.”

                “And you’ve been sleeping in the mail room?” he asks. I nod. “For how long?”

                “Just this week.”

                “Tori-“ He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can we at least agree not to lie to each other?” I tilt my head and look at him strangely.

                “But I’m not lying. It’d be a little hard for me to be sleeping anywhere else considering this past weekend I was with you, and the week before that I was unconscious.”

                “I caught you sleeping in the mail room before,” he says. Recognition flickers across my face. Back when I lost my memories, when he had put his cape over me, wasn’t that right around winter break? When I found out my parents weren’t coming? “I thought it was just a one-time thing-“

                “It was,” I say quickly. “I was just having-“ I shut my mouth. I still haven’t told him about the night terrors. “I couldn’t sleep, I went to do my rounds, and I just happened to sit down for a moment and doze off. That’s all. That’s why I went in there now. It was the first place I thought of.”

                He sighs, rubbing his face with one hand. “Look, I can fix this,” I say quickly. “I don’t have to stay in here. I’ll go back to Virginia and Ellen and work something out, okay?”

                “And you think she’ll allow that?” he asks. “She’s too involved now, Tori, she’s going to know, and if you leave, she’s going to assume I pushed you out.” He shakes his head. “If anything, I bet she jumped at the chance to put you here.”

                “I-“ I feel just as exasperated as he looks. My heart is pounding in my chest, and my hands are shaky. I feel like I’m about to cry. My roommates kicked me out, I have no friends, and now thanks to Potsdam, Hieronymous hates me too. “I’m sorry.”

                He just shakes his head. “I have work to do,” he says suddenly. “I’ll see you tonight.” I’m about to say “okay” when he turns to me pointedly. “ _Don’t_ go anywhere.” With that, he turns and storms out, slamming the door behind him.

                No kiss.

                Great.

                As soon as he’s out the door, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I look around the room, but it doesn’t look as much different as it did the other day. I don’t really want to look around and invade his privacy so I take a quick shower with my own toiletries this time, making sure to stash them in the empty bottom cabinet when I’m done with my shower so it doesn’t look like I’m cluttering up his space. I put on my pajamas before I realize that he’s only been gone for about half an hour. He said that he’d be back tonight so I guess that means he’s not coming back for quite a while. Was he leaving because he actually had stuff to do, or was he avoiding me?

                Bored and unhappy, I decide to poke around the room. It’s not a large room, and I’ve already been in it so many times there’s nothing really new for me to see. I forsake the dresser and the bookcase and instead focus on his desk. I sit down in his chair and peer at the papers and books, but they all seem to be in another language. I pick up one and hold it up to the light, trying to figure out if this is charmed too, but it looks like it’s simply a different language. I want to use magic on it to try to dispel the charm if there is one, but I’m afraid there might be some counter-jinx on it, and I don’t want to mess with it.

                As I stretch out my feet underneath the desk, I hear a click of bottles. I quickly peer underneath but don’t see anything. I hold a hand out in front of me.

                “Dispel.”

                Suddenly a small shelf embedded into the wall appears. I bend down and pull out one. Gin? So this is where he keeps his alcohol collection? I pause and turn around, my eyes sweeping the room. Well, if I was ever going to start drinking, now would be as good a time as any. I unscrew the cap and take a swig of it, imitating how Hieronymous had drank the other day when he was sulking in here. I realize I drank too much and I hold it in my cheeks, feeling the burn. It burns like extra-strength mouthwash and, afraid to spit it out, I struggle to choke down the rest of it.

                Wrong move. My body convulses as though I’ve just drank extra strength cough medicine and I rush into the bathroom and spit a little bit of it out into the sink, my whole body shaking. “Blegh,” I cough. I can feel goosebumps rising to my skin, and it feels like I had just gotten sick. I stay in the bathroom for a few minutes, making sure I won’t feel sick again and smoothing down my hair. I had put on an extra-large sweatshirt over my tank top, and it draped down to my thighs, giving the impression that I was wearing a large grey burlap sack. It’s warm though, and it does make me feel at least a little bit better.

                I stare at myself in the mirror for a few minutes before I shake my head and walk back into the room, tightening the lid on the gin. Maybe that was regular gin, or maybe it was super-strong-magically-enchanted gin, but either way I was not trying it again. I look at another bottle. Some kind of wine? Eh, pass. I had wine a few times at Christmas holidays at my grandparents when they were still alive, but I never liked it much. Maybe I would like it now that I’m older?

                I shrug half-heartedly and skip to another bottle. Vodka? I’ve had vodka before. I unscrew the lid and sniff it. It doesn’t smell as hazardous as the gin… I take a sip, a much smaller one this time. The bottle is smaller, which makes it a bit easier to do. I puff out my chin, and lick my lips. Is that a hint of blueberries? I look at the bottle again. It’s not bad.

                I take the bottle and sit on the floor, staring out the window. I’m actually not at a good position to see out the window from here, so I just rest my head against the bed and look up at the sky, taking small sips of vodka every now and again. I hate feeling sorry for myself, but right now there seems like nothing better to do. Before, Hieronymous had been the one person who was in my corner and now he was out of it. Drinking his alcohol probably wouldn’t help, and could potentially get me in a lot of trouble, but I didn’t care about that. What would they do? Expel me for it? Wipe my memories and take my magic and kick me out?

                Sure. Let them. Not like I had much to look forward to by staying here. It would just spare me a lot of misery and grief down the line. As much as I hated to admit it, and I _really_ hated to admit it, Hieronymous and I weren’t going to work out. And even if we did, even if we stayed married while I went off to college or went off to work, we would be living separately. He would probably be okay with that, but would I be? Would I be happy being apart from him so much? I struggle to think about it. I don’t think I’d be. I’m actually struggling so hard to figure out how I’d feel about it that I don’t even notice that the sun has set and it’s dark outside. I don’t even notice that Hieronymous has come into the room and was now standing about six feet from me.

                “What the _bloody hell_?” he exclaims. I just take another sip of vodka – well, a swig this time – and don’t look at him.

                “Found your stash,” I mutter, letting the bottle drop back into my lap.

                “Do you realize how much trouble you can be in for this?” he asks. He is so angry that he’s practically hissing at me, but I don’t even notice. Suddenly, something I was told at the beginning of the school year last year jumps out at me from the depths of my memory.

                “Actually, I believe it was during orientation when the school explained to us that since we are a magical school and the state is not technically allowed on the property, this campus is immune to state laws and as such, the drinking age does not apply here. And considering the drinking age in the magical community is like, twelve or something, drinking here is perfectly legal.”

                I just stare straight ahead of me and take another swig, not looking at him. Not trying to. Not caring. _Do you see me, Hieronymous? This is me, not caring._ At least now he knows what I look like when I’m not bending over backwards to try to impress him.

                Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his jaw open and then shut again. “It may not be illegal but you went through my room,” he snaps. “I should lock you in the dungeons and-“

                “-leave me there to rot?” I finish for him. “I was just sittin’ at your desk when I stretched out and accidently hit your bottles. I did a spell to make sure nothing was broken and found your stash.” It’s only half a lie, but it’s good enough. “So yes, please lock me in the dungeons for the rest of my life for that. I am clearly out of control and need to be punished.”

                “I will not tolerate your insolence,” he thunders. “You are my wife and you will-“

                “Not for much longer,” I mutter as I take another sip of vodka.

                His expression drops immediately. In fact, his whole demeanor changes so suddenly I almost feel like Professor Grabiner had walked out of the room and Hieronymous had walked in. “Tori, what’s wrong?” he asks, moving to sit on the floor beside me.

                I hold up the bottle in front of me and address it instead. “He’s so mercurial, don’t you think?”

                “Tori.” There’s concern in his voice now, and it almost makes me feel guilty. Almost. “Did something happen?”

                “Nope,” I say. I hold the bottle to my lips but don’t drink. “Just thinking thoughts.”

                “And do you care to enlighten me?” he asks. I say nothing. “Or is this going to be one of your little secrets? Like the night terrors?”

                I turn to him sharply. I don’t like what I see. He doesn’t just sound concerned, he _looks_ concerned. I take another sip of vodka and sneer at him. “That’s _none_ of your concern. I’m not your problem.”

                “You’re sitting in my room drinking my alcohol,” he says. “I think that makes you my problem.”

                “I’ll just go then.”

                “You live here now.”

                “I’ll sleep outside on your doorstep. She’ll never know.”

                He considers this for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this hostile. Angry, yes, but never hostile.”

                “Well, there’s the rub,” I say. It doesn’t sound like anything I would ever say at all. I’m not even entirely sure I even know what that phrase means.

                “Tori, what did you mean when you said you wouldn’t be my wife anymore?” I’m silent, holding the lip of the bottle between my teeth. “Did I do something wrong?” No answer. “Did you do something wrong?”

                I venture a gaze in his direction, but don’t look at him directly. “I do _everything_ wrong, haven’t you figured that out by now?”

                He pauses for a moment. “Pity doesn’t become you.”

                “Nothing becomes me, that’s why I’m wearing a burlap sack.” I lean forward and pull the hood over my face. It just reaches my eyes. “With a hood.”

                He sighs. “I’m trying my best to be patient with you, I really, really am.” I shrug. My guilt and his concern are slowly ebbing away my resolve. “Then you leave me no choice.” I hesitate for a moment, my blood running cold. _What’s he going to do_? Suddenly I feel a familiar sweep of white magic come over me and realize that he’s cast empathy on me.

                “Oh, no, don’t do that,” I whine. “Seriously? My emotions, not yours. Get your own.”

                “Then talk to me,” he says firmly.

                I bite my lip. He wants to hear it? Fine. Then let him hear everything. “I can’t go in the gym because I almost died there. I can’t go along the trails because I was attacked there, twice now, and I just realized if we hadn’t gotten married that I would have died in the mail room. If I somehow manage to survive this forsaken school, and thankfully the chances of that are very, very low, then I graduate in two years. And then I do what? Go to magical college? Get a cool magical job and live in a cool magical apartment? And you’re just, what? Here? You just stay here and you work here and we see each other on weekends and that’s it? If that’s the case, what’s the point in even being together?” Feeling adventurous, I take another swig. “Potsdam says plenty of magical people choose to live in the Otherworld, maybe I’ll just go and live there.”

                It’s a cheap shot, but to his credit, he doesn’t fall for it. “You’ve given this quite a bit of thought.”

                “Well, being kicked out of your room and lying on that stinking couch in the mail room gives you quite a bit of alone time with your thoughts.”

                “And how do you know I’ll continue to teach here?” he asks. “How do you know I won’t want to go teach at another school? Who says I’ll want to teach at all? And if I do stay here, who says I have to live here on campus? I do now, because it’s convenient, but not everyone does. And-“ he sighs. “It is possible that I may have to return to England, at least eventually, to take up my father’s seat in government.”

                I laugh into the bottle. “Oh. Great. England. Yeah, that’s nice and close.”

                He tilts his head to the side, as if he’s not quite sure I heard him correctly. “Typically, a viscount would not take the seat without his _viscountess._ ”

                This pulls me out of my stupor, at least momentarily, as I spin to look at him. “I keep forgetting you’re a noble. So is this why we’re married then? So you can take over your father’s role in government? Am I like a…trophy wife?” I wrinkle my nose at the thought.

                “I don’t want to,” he says eventually. “I vowed that I would never go back to England again after, well, you know.”

                “Wait, vowed?” I ask. “Like vow-vowed?” He doesn’t answer. Instead he just reaches over me and picks up the bottle of vodka, taking a swig himself.

                “So what else is on your mind?” he asks after he swallows.

                I hesitate. “You didn’t answer my question.”

                “Oh, was there a question in there?”

                “Mmhmm.”

                “And what was it then?”

                “I’m not going to repeat myself.”

                He laughs. “Oh, then I’ve finally found a way to make you shut up?”

                I scowl and snatch the bottle back from him. “You’re a jerk,” I mutter half-heartedly.

                “Tori, I understand that you’re concerned with our arrangement,” he says. “And I also understand that it’s easier to focus on the far future with everything that’s going on right now. And as troubling as this sounds to my own ears, I have not given much thought to what you will do after you finish your education here. We can discuss your options closer to your graduation date.”

                I shift on the floor uncomfortably, my muscles protesting. “I know what you’re trying to say. Say it better.”

                He sighs. “We can figure it out _together_.”

                “Was that so painful?”

                “Extremely.” I hit his arm and he laughs, taking another swig of vodka.

                “You’re laughing and I’m pouting,” I sigh. “You’re turning into me and I’m turning into you. Fantastic.”

                “You’re not turning into me,” he says.

                “Oh no?” I ask, pulling the vodka back from him. “Lately all I’ve wanted to after I got back from class is find a nice quiet place to curl up and read my books, far away from everyone else. Who does that sound like? You? Yes it does.” I take another drink, wrapping both arms protectively around the bottle.

                “And is that a bad thing?” he asks.

                “Everyone hates me.” My outstretched leg jerks, and I quickly pull it in. “Virginia and Ellen _kicked me out_. People are saying I _attacked_ them. Like, what the hell?”

                “It’s just rumors,” he says. “People will forget about it after Spring Break.”

                I want to ask him about Violet. I want to ask him if he had to endure the same kind of rumors after she died, but I can’t ask him that, I just can’t. “Is that why I shouldn’t have gone to class this week? To dodge all the rumors?”

                He shrugs non-committedly. “When did you start having night terrors?”

                “Who told you I was having night terrors?”

                “You did,” he replies, and I glance over at him. “Just now.”

                “You see? You’re turning into me. You’re starting to get-“ I shrug. “Devious.”

                “Clever,” he replies. “But it wasn’t hard to figure out. When you were sleeping on the couch in the mail room the first time, you kept crying out and whimpering in your sleep.”

                “Oh fantastic,” I say bitterly. I raise the bottle to my lips but don’t actually drink it. For some reason, I just feel completely exhausted. We sit in silence for a few minutes. “Donald says I’m _drama_.”

                “Drama?” He muses. “And this, coming from Mr. Danson?”

                “He creates chaos, not drama,” I inform him. “I don’t know, that’s such an ugly word. Drama. Like anything that happened is really my fault.”

                “I thought you had taken a liking to blaming yourself for everything.”

                “No, I’m blaming Damien for this.”

                “That’s fair.”

                “I never used to be drama,” I say, more to the bottle than to him. “At my old school, I never had relationship issues, probably because I was never _in_ a relationship, but still. There were no rumors about me. I mean, people knew who I was, but generally people liked me.”

                “Maybe because they didn’t know you well enough to see anything to dislike.”

                I pause. “That’s incredibly insightful.” I pick up the bottle then set it down again without drinking from it. “I guess I’m trying to figure out if I have a flawed perception of self-awareness or if I’m just turning into a different person.”

                “For the record,” he says. “I don’t think you’re drama. I think you can have a flair for the dramatics if jumping out a window was any indication, but I don’t think you’re drama. You came into that room in January to try to save my life, and the rumors of our elopement were only spread by Miss Cochran. You did nothing to invite that attention to yourself. Take this year for instance. Your memories were wiped through no fault of your own and word of our altercation with Mr. Ramsey spread throughout the school, even before you woke up. I’m not saying you couldn’t have reacted to things better with your roommates, I wasn’t there, but I know you didn’t incite all of this negative attention on yourself.”

                I hesitate. I feel better. Did talking with Hieronymous actually make me feel _better_? “Are you telling me this as my teacher or as my husband?”

                “As your friend,” he replies firmly. “And as your husband, I know how much you like it when I remind you of that fact.”

                “You pay extraordinarily close attention to me,” I observe.

                “No more than you do to me, I believe,” he says.

                I turn to him, seeing him maybe for the first time tonight. “Thank you.” He smiles at me, a familiar, gentle smile.

                “So I take it this talk has encouraged you to actually _talk_ to me next time something is wrong instead of drinking from my stores?”

                I shrug. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe I only reached this level of clarity because I’m drunk.”

                He frowns at me. “What time did you start drinking?”

                “Um, four-ish? Five-ish?”

                “Tori, it’s past nine now.” He looks at the bottle, holding it out in front of him. “You’ve had about four ounces in about four hours.”

                “Is…is that a lot?” I ask slowly.

                “Considering your age and how skinny you are,” he looks me up and down. “I’d say you are appropriately buzzed, but not drunk.”

                “Oh.” I don’t know what to call it. My head feels kind of funny, but other than that I just feel kind of tired. Subdued.

                “I’m going to take a shower,” he says as he stands up. “You should get into bed.”

                I salute him sarcastically. “Yes, sir.”

                I wait until he’s in the bathroom and I hear the familiar sound of water hitting the inside of the shower before I stand up. I’m a little wobbly on my legs from sitting for so long, but the room isn’t wobbling or anything. I set his vodka back on the shelf and pull my sweatshirt off, laying it across the top of my suitcase. I pick up a water bottle I had set on the nightstand and swish some water in my mouth, trying to relieve the taste of alcohol as I sit down on the edge of the bed.

                “Hey, I said in the bed, not against it,” he says as he comes out of the shower. He’s again shirtless and dressed only in pajama pants.

                “I was just going to brush my teeth,” I tell him. “To get the alcohol taste out of my mouth.”

                “I hope you weren’t planning on kissing me then,” he says as gets into bed. “Alcohol and toothpaste is not a pleasant combination.”

                “And vodka is?” I ask. He just shrugs as he switches off the light. “So you’d kiss me then? You didn’t kiss me today when you walked out.”

                He sighs. “I needed time to process the situation.”

                For some reason, I had totally forgotten that I was living here now. Being here with him, in his room, in his bed, it just felt so natural and comfortable, not at all like it had been when I went back to my dorm. “And what was your conclusion?”

                “That I can keep a better eye on you and keep you out of trouble here,” he says.

                “And those are your only thoughts on the matter?” I ask, moving closer to him.

                “I might have others,” he says non-committedly.

                I pout. “If you’re going to kiss me then kiss me because I honestly have no idea how bad my breath is right now and I’m not going to be the one to make the first move.”

                He reaches up and kisses me softly, testing the waters, and kisses me a few more times before it becomes an open-mouthed kiss. “It’s not terrible,” he says as he lies back down. “But I would kiss you more if you didn’t drink my alcohol.”

                “Good incentive,” I murmur sleepily as I curl into the crook of his arm. He is warm and his skin is soft and smooth and as I wrap an arm around him, I can’t ever imagine living in a world where I couldn’t snuggle up to him at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I really took a shot of gin for this chapter. It was nasty, my body was shaking, and I felt nauseous for a good hour afterwards. Learn from me and never do a shot of gin.


	50. Chapter 50

                My eyes blink open and I roll over, momentarily having no clue where I am. My eyes dart around the room before I realize that I’m in Hieronymous’ room. Well, my room, now. Our room. We’ve been married for a little over a year and we are finally sharing a room together. Is that progress? I can’t even be sure.

                I roll over in bed and grab at my watch from the nightstand. I overslept. I _way_ overslept. Not that it really mattered too much anyway, it wasn’t like I was planning on going to class with all of the rumors that were running around. No, instead I would stay safely out of sight until Spring Break was over and people had hopefully forgotten about me. As I look about the room, my eyes land on my green cape that bears the horse insignia. I wasn’t really living in Horse Hall anymore, so did that mean I was still a horse? It hardly seemed appropriate, but I had nothing else to really change it to. If Hieronymous was really nobility, he probably had a family crest, but that would be beside the point.

                I sit up and think about the conversation we had last night, about the conversation we had the night of the May Day ball, when Hieronymous told me that he suspected Potsdam of trying to arrange the marriage so he could take up his father’s seat. For some reason, I always assumed that it was merely my long-winded speeches and sheer force of will that he liked me and still wanted to be married to me, but maybe it was the other way around? If he really did need to suddenly go back to England, I would, as his wife, have to go with him. So was it actually in his best interests to stay married to me?

                I think this over for a while, wondering if that train of thought had led him to cancel the severance. Did this have nothing to do with love? Was it all about political gain? I think about it for a moment, but that doesn’t make any sense either. He said clearly last night that that wasn’t what he wanted. He said last night that he didn’t even want to go back to England, that he _vowed_ never to go back to England…

                …but he had also said that he _might have to_. Surely he wouldn’t go back if it meant breaking a vow and losing his magic and memories? How would he be expected to hold up the seat or whatever he had to do if he couldn’t remember anything about who he was? Was there a special vow-breaking exception that I didn’t know about? Maybe if you made a vow, there was a special way to be released from it without losing your magic?

                I flop backwards onto the bed into the pillows. There was so much about the magical world that I didn’t know about. Heck, there was so much about the _world_ I didn’t know about. I didn’t know anything about British monarchy. He said his father was a viscount, but what was that compared to a duke? An earl? A baron? Did he live in tons of fancy houses and have carriage rides to Derbyshire? I roll over onto my stomach. All of my information was coming from old novels that I had read years ago. I could always ask him, but I wasn’t sure he would really be open to talking about it, and I didn’t want to push him. I could already picture it: me living in a large mansion and having to wear fancy dresses and host parties and entertain high society. I’d have to learn a soup spoon from a regular spoon and a salad fork from another kind of fork…it was nothing I ever aspired to.

                But as his wife, would I have to? Maybe not now, but in five years, ten years, twenty years, would I have to be groomed for a role I didn’t want to play? Would I eventually want to play it? I close my eyes. I can see why Hieronymous wasn’t as stressed about the future as I was: I wasn’t going anywhere. And that should have been good. That should have comforted me. I don’t know why it didn’t. Maybe it was because I had assumed that I would always need _him_ ; I didn’t realize that he was the one who may need _me_. But if we were together, wasn’t that good enough?

                I groan and shake my head, sitting up again. Too much alone time, too many thoughts. And, just as he had said, these thoughts were only a distraction from my everyday problems, like what I was going to do to get me through the end of the year. Fortunately we only had a month left after Spring Break, and then there were finals to worry about, so it wouldn’t be that bad. Hieronymous had mentioned that I probably wouldn’t need to take the final, but I wanted to. As long as it didn’t involve me working with my former roommates, that is. Then I would probably just fail on principle.

                Suddenly there is a knock on the door and I quickly slip out of bed. I consider throwing on my robes first, but a second knock pulls me towards the door. I’m in a tank top and shorts; I’m decent enough for Professor Potsdam. Because, honestly, who else would it be? Who else knows I’m here?

                And that’s when I open the door to see Jason standing in front of me. “Hello Tori,” he says. I haven’t actually seen him since he gave me detention. It wasn’t like I was avoiding him, although maybe I kind of was.

                “Hello,” I say, thinking about it for a moment. “Professor Coleman.”

                “Jason,” he laughs. “Don’t you remember me?”

                “I remember you,” I say curtly. If it was an attempt at a joke, after everything that’s happened, it wasn’t a very good one. There’s a pause of awkward silence.

                “May I come in?”

                “Professor Grabiner is not here at the moment, unfortunately.”

                “That’s okay, I came by to see you.”

                “Okay,” I say quickly. “Um, excuse me, one second.” I close the door gently before rushing back into the room, throwing on my robes. I quickly grab the stone around my neck and try to send out a message, having no idea if it will reach him. _Hieronymous. Jason is here and he wants to talk to me. I don’t know what he wants. Just thought you should know._ I break the connection and head back outside, smiling sweetly, as I shut the door behind me.

                “Sorry about that. I don’t think Professor Grabiner would appreciate having guests in his private quarters unannounced. You understand.”

                “It’s your room too now, from what I hear,” Jason says, and a list of suspects goes through my mind. Potsdam wouldn’t just volunteer that information to the teachers unless it came up, and it was pretty obvious Hieronymous would never tell anyone you were living with him. _Virginia_.

                “I’m a guest,” I say graciously. In the back of my mind, I am trying out the role as the gracious, supportive wife of a noble, seeing if it fits me. “Professor Grabiner is simply being charitable.”

                “Charitable?” Jason raises an eyebrow and grins, looking down on the floor. “Now that’s not a word that many would use to describe him.” I merely purse my lips and shrug my shoulders. “He is also your husband, isn’t he?”

                “He is, sir,” I reply simply.

                He frowns and puts his hands on his hips. “You know, Tori, I’m going to be straight with you. You’ve changed. You’re not the happy, hopeful student that entered my office before Thanksgiving. You seem upset all the time, and Virginia told me all about how you lock yourself indoors, how you cry at night, and she’s concerned about you. Everybody is. But spending more time with Grabby? You’re locking yourself in, just like he does, and isolating yourself from everyone around you. It’s not healthy.”

                _Can you be expelled for punching a teacher?_ I consider it for a moment, before I remember that I’m trying to play the gracious wife role. What would she do if her husband and her status were being attacked? She wouldn’t hit with her fists, she would hit back with her words.

                “It seems, _sir_ , that you have me at a disadvantage,” I say quietly. “If you may recall, back during the end of November, I seemed to be struggling with an apparent memory lapse, one that I’m sure you were all too aware of. And you listened to me air my grievances without taking the time to consider whether it was appropriate for you to do so. Considering that I was and am his wife, you should have taken the opportunity to encourage me to speak to him directly.” I pause for a moment, feigning the look that a realization was suddenly striking me. “It strikes me as most curious then that, knowing he was my husband, you encouraged me disregard his opinion and-”

                “Tori, as your teacher, I was simply making an observation,” Jason interrupts. “You’re my student, and I am in the nature of protecting students from making mistakes that they’ll regret later. I know you can’t see it now, but he is not a good influence on you.”

                “Do you know that it is considered impolite in many societies to stand on someone’s doorstep and insult their marriage?” I ask him testily.

                “Tori, it’s not a real marriage-“

                “Isn’t it?” I let out a little laugh. “Unfortunately, sir, I don’t believe you were there, but I can inform you that it was a lovely little ceremony. Professor Potsdam was in attendance, as was a member of my class. It was lit by candlelight; the whole thing was _very romantic_.”

                “Okay, fine, the marriage was real, but he’s using you, Tori.”

                “And I dare say, considering the way rumors circulate around this school, I must inquire as to just how he is using me.” Jason looks me up and down and then raises his eyebrows. I raise my chin and brush the hair out of my face, swallowing hard. “Again I must assert that you have no business to comment on my marriage.”

                “No business?” Jason shakes his head. “Look, Tori, I know you want to do well in school, and I know you want to get ahead, but you need to do so on your own merits and-“

                I snap my head back to look at him. “If you are implying that I am seeking favors or special privileges through my relationship with Professor Grabiner than I suggest you look for clarification on the subject. Professor Potsdam, I can assure you, would be _very_ interested to hear the ‘special privileges’ that I am apparently being awarded. I wonder if you count almost being killed by a student that you were specially training amongst them.”

                “Petunia and I already discussed-“

                “I just find it curious,” I say loudly. “That when Thomas first enrolled here, he took a special liking to you. As the months went by and his attitude began to change, that was obvious to his closest friends, excluding myself due to my state at the time. I wonder then, sir, how it is that you took no notice of it?” He hesitates. “Notice aside, Tommy informed me of the kind of spells you were teaching him. Much above the skill level of a freshman, wouldn’t you agree?”

                He narrows his eyes at me. “What are you trying to say? I didn’t know Damien, or whoever he was. I didn’t teach here last year. Tommy came to me and seemed to have a natural affinity to red magic. He was my student and I taught him what he wanted to know. My job is to foster growth and learning.” He shakes his head. “But I can see that Professor Grabiner is trying to turn you against me. He is trying to turn you against everyone, your friends, your classmates. The more he isolates you, the more control he has over you.”

                “That would be quite alarming if such an allegation be true,” I say quietly, my voice thick with venom.

                He reaches out and picks up a few strands of hair from my shoulder, much like he did that day in his office. I don’t even flinch. “Tori, I know this is very hard to hear. You are a very pretty girl and I don’t want to see your life go to waste-“

                “Oh, I am so much more than just pretty.” My voice is dangerously low now, as I grab his wrist and remove it from my shoulder.

                He sighs. “Tori-“

                “When I am a student in your classroom, you may refer to me as Tori,” I tell him. “But seeing as right now classes are over for the week and you are not my teacher, I think it might be more appropriate for you to address me as Mrs. Grabiner outside the academic setting.”

                He shakes his head. “Whatever he is promising you, it isn’t worth it.”

                “Good thing I haven’t promised her anything.” Professor Grabiner uncloaks himself behind Jason and I shoot a tight-lipped triumphant smile in his direction. “As you said yourself, it would be highly inappropriate of me to do so.” Jason makes a face as soon as he hears Hieronymous’ voice, but does not respond. “Mrs. Grabiner, would you please wait for me inside? I believe I have some matters of civility to discuss with my colleague here.”

                “Of course.” I bow my head and do a small curtsy in his direction before I turn back to Jason. “Good day, Professor Coleman.” With that I disappear inside, taking my time to do so. I close the door behind me, but don’t go anywhere, listening to the conversation through the door.

                “Interesting to find you here, Jason,” he says. “After all, my office is just down the hall from yours.”

                “I came here to see what you were doing to that poor girl,” Jason says. “Her roommates were extremely concerned-“

                “Oh, yes,” he replies. “They were so concerned her with her well-being that Potsdam decided to place Tori here _indefinitely_. So thoughtful of them, to want to give Tori her own space, wouldn’t you say?”

                “If I find out that you are hurting that girl, Grabby-“

                “Hurt her?” Hieronymous asks. “Please don’t insult me. She is my wife, and I have sworn to protect her. Hurting her would seemingly be against my own self-interests.” There’s quiet for a moment. “But I can see you’re not convinced. Tori?”

                At first I think I’m in trouble for eavesdropping and almost smash my face against the door. Instead I stand up slowly and put my game face on, opening the door and stepping partially outside. “Yes sir?”

                “Professor Coleman here seems to be under the impression that I am harming you.” I shift my eyes in his direction. “Am I harming you in any way?”

                “No sir.”

                “Am I hurting you in any way?”

                “No sir.”

                “And are you here of your own free will?”

                “Yes sir.”

                “Do you have any questions for her?” Grabiner turns to Jason, who again says nothing. “Tori, would you like me to dismiss Professor Coleman?”

                “I do believe we’ve been insulted enough for one day,” I say levelly.

                “There. It seems Mrs. Grabiner would like you to leave,” Grabiner says.

                Instead, Jason just turns to me. “If you ever need to talk, you know where my office is.” Instead I just smile and wiggle my fingers at him in a quick wave as he turns to go. As soon as his back is turned, I slip inside and wait for Hieronymous to follow. He stays out there a few moments more, making sure Jason is gone before he comes back inside. I pull off my robes and cast them aside on the floor.

                “Are you all right?” Hieronymous asks me as I shake out my hair.

                “All right?” I ask, jumping into his arms. “That was…. _awesome_!” I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him square on the mouth. He kisses me back, holding me to him for a moment before letting me go. “How much of that were you there for?”

                “Pretty much all of it,” he responds. “I was about to tell you not to engage him when you disconnected. I came as fast as I could.” He smiles down at me. “But you did extremely well. I’m impressed.” I bite my lip. Ironic that the last time I was in Jason’s office was because I thought I would never get Grabiner’s approval. And now, here it was. I could just tell by the look on his face that he was proud of me. _Hieronymous Grabiner is proud of me._

                I let out a squeal of happiness and wrap my arms around him again, smiling contently into his robes. “I did well.”

                “Yes.” He pushes me away slightly and holds me out by his arms so he can get a good look at me. “But I have never heard you speak like that before. Where did you learn to talk like that?”

                There’s no good way to tell him I was pretending to be his wife in a faraway castle in England in twenty years, so I tell him the next best thing. “I was trying to channel you.”

                “Ah,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Well it seems as though I can be a positive influence on you after all.”

                I huff and cross my arms over my chest. “So I guess that’s the new rumor going around now? That you’re keeping me in here like a princess in a tower?”

                He only shrugs half-heartedly. “I have no desire to keep up with whatever drivel that the students have decided to pass around this time.” He turns to me. “But that does not mean I’m not concerned with how you’re handling it.”

                “Me?” I ask, suddenly thinking back to yesterday. “I am fine. I am very fine.” I lean in to kiss him again, but when I pull away, he still looks concerned. I drop my voice. “Everything Jason said was a _steaming load of horse shit_.”

                I snicker as he rolls his eyes and releases me. “Well at least I can be sure that you haven’t changed a bit.”

                I smile at him, and that’s probably the first time I realize how close attention he has been paying to me. The comment he made last night about people only liking me because they don’t know my flaws was not just a sudden slip. He’s been watching me. He knows me, better than anyone else at this school. He really knows me. He has seen my anger and my sadness and my happiness and-

                “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, tilting his head to one side.

                “I just think we make a good team, that’s all,” I say quietly. A look passes between us and I can feel my heart skip a beat.

                He strides over to me with sudden purpose, consuming me, possessing me. Slowly we make our way over to the bed, never breaking the kiss. I lie back against the blankets and can feel his full weight on top of me as he explores my mouth, his hand reaching underneath my shirt. I gasp with longing, running my hand through his hair, over his robes. He angles his head to get better reach and I think he’s about to keep going when he stills suddenly. “I should get back to work.” 

                I make a face and make no attempt to try to conceal my disappointment. “But you just got here,” I say. My legs are twisted around his and I make no move to let them go.

                “I’ll be back tonight,” he says, kissing my jaw softly. “And then we have the whole week to ourselves.”

                I pout. “You promise?”

                He raises an eyebrow and says nothing, but he winks at me as he’s heading out the door. I want to call for him to come back, but I feel like that may seem too childish and so I let him leave. I cross my arms over my chest and sigh. Jason. How well did he really know me anyway? He was my teacher in class, sure, but aside from that one incident at Thanksgiving, I hadn’t really talked to him about Hieronymous. I chew on the edge of my thumb as I think. He obviously _thought_ he knew me to say that I had changed. What had Virginia been telling him, or better yet, what had Tommy been telling him?

                I sigh and lie back on the bed and close my eyes. It didn’t matter what the other teachers thought, not really. Professor Potsdam was the ultimate authority, and she was obviously more than okay with our relationship as long as it didn’t filter into the classroom. Slowly I push myself off the bed and drag my feet over to the bookshelf, looking for something to read. I just had to entertain myself for a few hours and then Hieronymous would be back, and then we had the rest of the week to ourselves.

                And then we had the rest of the month to put up with whatever rumors people wanted to throw our way. Hadn’t we already been through enough? I grab a book on white magic and trudge back to bed.


	51. Chapter 51

                “Tori, Tori, wake up.” I moan sleepily and roll the other way. Someone is shaking my shoulder, and I don’t care who it is or why, I just want to sleep. “Tori, Tori… _Mrs. Grabiner_?”

                My eyes open and I roll into the warm arms of my husband. “Oh hey you.”

                “I’m not sure if you were faking and waiting for me to say that, but either way you need to get up.”

                “Get up?” I murmur groggily, blinking in the dim light. I was reading a book on white magic and must have dozed off. “What time is it?”

                “4:30 AM.”

                “What?” I roll around to face him. “Wait, what?”

                He sighs. “I came in here last night to find you drooling on one of my books, so I tucked you in and put you to bed. But it’s 4:30 AM now and you have your treasury duties to get to.”

                “You know, ordinarily I’d be looking forward to getting up so I can see you,” I mutter as I sit up.

                “Yes,” he says dryly. “You always looked so cheerful in the mornings whenever you saw me.”

                “Oh,” I groan, rubbing my eyes. “How can you be this sarcastic so early in the morning? My brain is all…fuzz.” I groan again and throw myself back on the bed.

                “Are you always this pleasant in the morning?” he asks with a note of good humor in his voice. I roll over onto my stomach and stick my tongue out at him, scooching myself out of bed slowly. It’s cold in his room, and I’m just in my shorts and a tank top.

                “Are you coming with?” I ask, and he sighs.

                “Might as well, I’m already up.”

                “I mean, you can stay in bed-“

                “I’m up, Tori,” he says. “Besides, with the two of us working it will get done faster.”

                “Not like there’s that much to do anyway,” I shrug. “A bunch of people left for Spring Break already.”

                “But others were waiting to leave today,” Hieronymous replies. “Which means we still have our duties to perform.”

                “Duties,” I scoff. I throw on my robes over my pajamas, slip on striped black-and-blue fuzzy socks and then slide them into my sneakers. “Okay, I’m ready when you are.”

                He stares me up and down. “That’s it?”

                I squint at him in the dim light. I’m too tired for this. “What’s this?”

                “That’s how you get ready in the morning?” he asks.

                I shrug, letting my shoulders rise and drop. “Does my hair look okay?”

                “It looks fine,” he replies. He obviously needs a lot more time to get dressed. “Very…blue.”

                “Oh, wow, you noticed?” I ask sarcastically. “What an eye you have for color. Did you ever think about being a painter because really-“

                “Tori, it is entirely too early in the morning to deal with your bickering.”

                “You started it,” I mumble as I walk into the bathroom. My hair is thick, and long, and so it doesn’t really require me to do anything to it, besides run my fingers through it to get out any tangles. It’s not going to change anything anyway. I actually tried magically straightening it with Virginia and Ellen once last year, and I had no desire to reek of burnt hair for a week again.

                I suddenly notice him standing in the doorway. “May I?”

                “You may,” I say sleepily, but make no move to get away from the sink. He sighs and grabs me one by arm and forcibly removes me from the bathroom.

                “Okay, I can take a hint,” I say through the door. I want to yell, but my voice hasn’t worked its way up to that volume yet. “I’m going to get a head start. I’ll meet you there.”

                I don’t wait for a reply as I walk outside into the damp wet. It’s dark, it’s grey, it’s cold, it’s raining and there are literally a thousand other places I would rather be than-

                I feel someone grab me from behind and all of a sudden I am standing in the hallway outside the mail room. I spin around, fists raised, ready to fight, but it’s only Hieronymous. I let out a deep sigh, collapsing in on myself. “What the hell did you just do?”

                “I have no desire for you to get sick from standing out in the wet,” he says. “Are you all right?”

                I pause for a moment. My heart is fluttering and I feel like I am raking in bigger breaths than I should be. “ _Don’t_ sneak up on me,” I say firmly. “A, ‘hey Tori, I’m going to grab you and teleport you inside now’ will _suffice_.”

                “Duly noted,” he says as he unlocks the door to the room. I step inside and look around. It doesn’t look much different than it had any other day of the year, and I don’t know why I expected it to. I guess it was the first time that I was entering it with Hieronymous instead of Professor Grabiner.

                “Okay, I’ll do my thing, you do your thing, and then we can go back to sleep.”

                He looks at me. “Is that really what you do when you get done here? Go back to bed?”

                “Um, I read sometimes?” I offer. “But I still am in _bed_ reading, so…yeah.”He shakes his head like reading in bed is the most absurd idea he’s ever heard of. “Okay, then, what do you do?”

                “I read,” he says. “I study, I make notes, I-“

                “Do basically the exact same thing as me,” I counter.

                “Tori, just get done with your work.”

                “Of course, _Professor Grabiner,”_ I wink at him as I sit down at the table and start to sort money through the envelopes. There’s about a dozen less than usual, and I figure that the envelopes for the people who have been staying have already been removed. I’m working as fast as I can so we can get back to bed when suddenly Hieronymous moves to stand directly behind me. “What are you doing?” I ask as I feel fingertips caressing my cheek.

                “Seeing how you’ll react,” he replies.

                I inhale a breath slowly through my nose and then breathe it out through my mouth. “Well, you’re not going to get a reaction from me.”

                “Oh no?” He moves his hand around to the front of my neck, sliding a finger down my throat. I close my eyes and relish the sensation as he moves his fingers up my jaw, gently running his thumb against the curve of my lower lip.

                “No,” I whisper as he pulls his hand away. He continues this malicious teasing until I start to squirm in my chair. “No, Hieronymous-“

                “Hm?” He bends down to whisper it in my ear, so close that I can feel his tongue against my earlobe. “What do you want?”

                “You,” I pant. I have my hands gripped so tightly to the chair on either side of me that I think my knuckles are turning white.

                “Here?” he asks. “Now?”

                “Yes,” I moan loudly. My hips are starting to gyrate against the chair now, and I am flush with need. “Yes, Hieronymous-“

                He pulls away from me suddenly, and I open my eyes. “You better hurry up then,” he says.

                My mouth opens in shock. “What was that supposed to be? Incentive?” He shrugs, but there is a nasty little smirk playing on his lips. “You know, two can play at that game.”

                He raises his eyebrows, still gloating. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you back at the room once you’ve finished your duties.” With that, he sweeps out of the room leaving me sitting there, a frustrated bundle of need.

                “So not fair.”

                I quickly place the few envelopes I had remaining and then sort the mail. There’s not much of it, and it doesn’t take more than a few minutes. There’s only three packages to go out, and I see that one of them is for Virginia.

                Grimacing, I quickly take all the packages and mail and exit the room, making sure to lock up behind me, and go about my deliveries. I’m going as fast as I possibly can, partially because I want to go back to Hieronymous sooner than possible, but also now because I don’t want to run into Virginia, and the earlier I show up, the less of a chance there is that that could happen.

                I slide the envelopes for her and Ellen underneath the door roughly and then put the package down on the floor, knocking twice to signal a delivery. To my surprise, Virginia opens it before I’ve even had time to put my hand down.

                “Hey,” she says.

                “Hey,” I respond curtly. “You’ve got a package.”

                I’m about to continue with my deliveries when she calls my name, and I turn back to face her. “Look, me and Ellen have been talking about it-“

                “It’s fine,” I say. “Really. Have a good Spring Break.”

                “It’s not fine,” she says. “Look, I know that you’ve been through a lot and we’ve been really bad friends about it. But Jason came to talk to us last night-“

                “Oh my-“ I rub my eyebrow with frustration. “Jason needs to take a chill pill, okay? He came to visit me yesterday too. He’s insisting Hieronymous is bad for me which isn’t true at all. Despite how he may seem in class, he can actually be really sweet.” I hesitate for a moment. “Although he might literally kill me if he knows I told you that.”

                Virginia just shakes her head. “But how can we believe that? We’ve seen him. We’ve seen you. We’ve seen how he treats you.”

                “He doesn’t handle frustration in the best way possible,” I say carefully. “But we are working on it. Together. So if that’s all-“

                I start to walk away when she grabs my arm. “They think he’s only using for-“ She looks up and down the hall and mouths the word “sex.”

                “Oh really?” I raise my eyebrows. “And who is they? You? Jason? And our marital affairs are on a strictly need to know basis-“ I lower my voice. “And if you _really_ want to be in the know, we haven’t _done_ anything yet. He is being a perfect gentleman about it and wants to wait and make sure I’m ready. And I’m waiting for a special, romantic occasion.” _Like, literally, as soon as this conversation ends and I can get back there._

“Really?” Virginia asks, and I can tell by the look on her face that she didn’t see that coming.

                “Look,” I say. “I don’t have anything against you for kicking me out. It was hard to deal with the drama and I get it. But we’re still friends, right?” She hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I’d have to talk to Grabby about it, obviously, but maybe when you and Ellen get back from Spring Break we can all have dinner together or something and you can see that he’s really not that bad.”

                She eyes me suspiciously. “He is _never_ going to agree to that.”

                I wink at her. “Oh, I think I can manage it. He has a soft spot when it comes to me.”

                I can see her thinking it over. “All right,” she says. “You tell us when it’s all going down. Donald might want to come too, just to see the nice side of Grabby.”

                “That’s never going to fly,” I laugh. “I can probably swing you and Ellen, but not Donald.”

                “Yeah, I know,” she says, then punches my arm lightly. “Hey, don’t be a stranger. And you’re being missed at Sports Club, you know.”

                “The gym’s been a bit of a weird place for me,” I say as casually as possible. “But yeah. I need to do some running or something.”

                We nod at each other for a few moments. “We’re not going to have to hug or anything, are we?” she asks.

                “No, please, let’s not,” I say quickly. “I got to deliver the rest of this stuff though. Enjoy your Spring Break.”

                “You too,” she whispers as she shuts the door.

                I turn around and head down the corridor, almost suspicious as to how well that went down. Did Jason tell her to get closer to me? Was she going to pretend to be my friend and report everything I said back to him? Or did she genuinely feel sorry about kicking me out and wanted to be my friend again? She had been my roommate for two years, and yet I didn’t have the answer to any of those questions. I’m not sure if that said more about her, or about me.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters again today!!

                By the time I get back to the room, Hieronymous is in his desk chair, reading. I hadn’t really expected him to do anything else. “You took your time,” he says, without looking up at me.

                “Yeah,” I scratch my head, trying to figure out how to approach the issue of Virginia with him.

                “I figured you would be a little quicker with the incentive I gave you,” he muses, eyebrows raised.

                “Incentive?” I ask, my eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, I forgot about that.”

                The book nearly topples out of his hands, but he manages to catch it in time as he looks up at me. “You forgot?”

                “I’m going to go take a shower,” I say quickly, ducking into the bathroom. I didn’t really forget; how _could_ I forget, but I wasn’t about to let him know that. I still had my own thoughts to puzzle through, and taking a shower would be a good time for me to continue to think without being distracted.

                It doesn’t take me more than ten minutes to shower, and my thoughts are too preoccupied with how Hieronymous is going to react when I get out to get much thinking done. Strategically, I wrap the towel around me and head back outside. He is still sitting on his chair, reading a book. He doesn’t look at me when I come in.

                “Oops, look at me, I forgot my clothes again,” I say loudly, making no attempt to go towards my suitcase.

                “Hmm,” he says, not looking at me.

                “Yeah, I’m only wearing a towel right now.” I look down at my own body. “It’s not covering much of me.”

                “Is it?” he asks, continuing to read his book.

                “Yeah, I’m wearing a towel and I’m just dripping wet.”

                “Perhaps you should dry off then,” he mutters between his fingers as he turns a page.

                I place my hands on my hips. “Interested in helping me with that?”

                “Perhaps in the future,” he says. “Right now you’re being punished.”

                “And how do you plan to punish me?” I smirk at him, but he doesn’t respond. “Oh, come on. I didn’t _forget_. But there were important things-“

                “I’m sure they were very important,” he says as he turns another page.

                In spite, I grab my towel and throw it onto the bed beside me. It takes him a moment, but slowly he looks up from his book and looks me up and down, one eyebrow raised. His eyes flick to mine as he takes me in, and that’s when I realize I’ve just lost his game.

                “I hate you,” I squeal as I storm towards my suitcase, but he is on top of me in a minute, pushing me against the wall, invading my mouth with his tongue.

                “Mm-“ I break the kiss. “I thought I was being punished.”

                “You are,” he says, kissing my neck. “I’m not.”

                I gasp as he starts to kiss down my neck. Immediately I see where this is going to go, and I can’t have it. Not right now. Not while I’m distracted by other things. “Hieronymous? Hieronymous stop.” He freezes instantly, his lips against my navel, as if he’s been touched by a live wire.

                “I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

                “It’s fine,” I say quickly. He just stands there awkwardly as I fumble with my suitcase, pulling out a tank top and shorts. I dress quickly while he just stands there, watching me uncomfortably. I sigh and pull him over to the bed and force him to sit before straddling him. “This?” I say softly, pressing my lips to his. “This is okay.”

                He threads his fingers through my hair as he kisses me, keeping his hands over my clothes. He kisses me back, but that’s about all he does. “Don’t punish me for telling you to stop,” I whisper against his lips, and he kisses me back, a little more fervently this time, his hand dipping under my shirt to caress my lower back. He begins to trail kisses across my jaw and down my neck, but it’s just not the same.

                “Dammit,” I hiss, rolling off of him. “She had to go and ruin everything.”

                “She?” he asks.

                I think about it for a moment. “No. He. He ruined everything.”

                He sighs. “He?”

                “Jason.”

                The effect on him is immediate. He sits up, eyes blazing. “What did he say to you?”

                “Nothing….directly,” I say slowly. “Virginia held up her vacation to talk to me. Apparently Jason stopped by there last night and told her some things.”

                “Some things?” he asks.

                “That you were using me, for, you know,” I manage slowly, averting my eyes. He rubs his mouth with one hand and stands up.

                “Tori,” he says seriously. “I’m sorry, I never meant…it’s just that you…and I thought…and today in the mail room-“

                “No, wait, what?” I ask, looking up at him. “No, I want it. I mean, I want you.” I shift my eyes. “I guess it’s just…I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem like a good time right now.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Hey, if I hadn’t run into Virginia today, I would have let you take me on the mail room table this morning.”

                His lip pulls in the semblance of a smile. “You don’t have to pretend to be ready-“

                “I’m not pretending,” I say loudly, getting up to face him. “Stop sulking. Listen to me.” I grab his face with both hands and kiss him square on the mouth. “I want you, okay? I really, really want to. But I don’t want our first time together to be at seven in the morning when I’ve just been arguing with Virginia about you. I want-“ I pause. “I want it to be special. Romantic. On a day when you haven’t talked about punishing me.”

                He considers this for a moment. “I suppose I can oblige.”

                I kiss him back gently. “Good.” I take his hand and lead him back to the bed, helping myself into his lap. “Because I am going to be _begging_ you to do that to me again, probably in the near future.”

                “Begging?” he asks softly. “I thought you told me to stop.”

                “Because of the timing,” I say again. “Not because I didn’t want you to do that. Because I think I really sort of do.”

                He musses my hair. “There’s no rush, Tori.”

                “When I tell you I’m ready, will you listen?” I ask. “When we’re together and, I’m ready, like, really ready, and I tell you, will you listen?”

                He pauses for a moment before placing a kiss on my temple. “Yes.”

                “Okay then,” I sigh, settling back into his arms. “That makes me feel better.”

                “Good.”

                “But in the meantime, please don’t be afraid to touch me. Or kiss me. Or do…other stuff to me.”

                “Other stuff?” he raises an eyebrow.

                “I don’t know,” I reply casually. “Just…thinking thoughts.”

                “Tell me about the conversation you had with Ms. Danson,” he says. “It’s obviously upset you.”

                “The weird thing is, it didn’t,” I explain. “I went to drop Virginia’s package off at her door and she was there, like she waiting for me. She told me Jason had stopped by last night and she tried feeding me that same crap that you were bad for me.”

                “And?”

                “And,” I hesitate. “And I may have sort of said that you weren’t as mean as you can be in class. I may have sort of said that you and me and her and Ellen can all go out for like, dinner together one night or something.”

                He sighs, rubbing his temple with one hand. “Tori-“

                “No, no, it’s a stupid idea,” I say, and he lets out a small murmur of agreement. “I mean, they remember you setting a book on fire in the beginning of the year. And they remember you threatening me to lock me in the dungeons last year. And they remember when you tried to throw me against a wall this year, but no you’re right. We can’t let them see that you’re secretly a nice person. They’ll just have to keep on going believing all the rumors and everything that Jason says about you is true because they don’t know any better.”

                He stops rubbing his forehead and looks at me. “You really are a crafty little thing, aren’t you?”

                “I don’t know about crafty,” I shrug. “But I’m not sure if Virginia was trying to be my friend or because Jason told her to try to be my friend to get information on me.”

                “So you’re going to outmaneuver a manipulator with manipulation?”

                “Precisely.”

                He sighs again. “Maybe you are turning into me.”

                “Hey, please, give me _some_ credit,” I huff, slapping his shoulder lightly. “I mean, that’s all social politics really is, isn’t it? Just mind games and more mind games?”

                “Yes, but for some reason I seemed to think you were outside all that,” he sighs. “I assumed your friendships ran more towards common interests than protective alliances.”

                “Can’t it be both?” I ask. “I mean, it’s like in Sports Club. I’m not really, like, friends with a lot of people there, but when we’re playing soccer and choosing teams, if I saw that picking the last person would put Jacob on Virginia’s team, then I would pick Jacob for my team.”

                “Because-?” he asks slowly.

                “Because Virginia hates him,” I explain. “She doesn’t want him on her team, so I’d go ahead and pick him even though he’s a terrible player, just so she wouldn’t have to be stuck with him.”

                “Hmm,” he says thoughtfully. “You really are a kind person.”

                “Kind?” I ask, shaking my head. “No, no, that’s not kind. That’s just, I don’t know, code? Learned social conventions?”

                He shakes his head and decides to change the subject. “Do you like it? Sports Club?”

                “Yes,” I say. “A lot. I like running, and I like soccer. And sometimes we have special magic tournaments where we try to do weird things with the ball, like we have to try scoring it without anyone touching it. I don’t know, it just reminds me of gym class back at my old school, minus the magic part.”

                “Hmm,” he says. “Did you like your old school?”

                “Not really,” I shrug. “I mean, it wasn’t bad, but there were a ton of weird classes we had to take like woodwork and cooking and stuff. I liked gym and I liked soccer and I liked track and okay, yeah, I guess I liked English because of all the reading and writing and stuff, but the rest of it was just bleh.”

                “Hmm,” he says again, and appears deep in thought.

                “What is it?” I ask, looking up at him.

                “Nothing,” he replies, looking down at me. “Just trying to get to know you better, that’s all.”

                “Ah,” I say softly. “Did you like sports?” He raises an eyebrow at me. “What? It’s a fair question.”

                “No, Tori.”

                I don’t want to ask him about his past. I don’t want to hear her name. I’m slightly curious about what his life was like before her, but I don’t ask about that either. I don’t ask about what life was like for him in all the years teaching here. I don’t ask him why he wanted to become a teacher. It’s not because I’m not curious or because I don’t care; it’s simply because I don’t know if I’ll like the answers I’ll hear, and I don’t want to spend an entire week with him with sour thoughts hanging over my head.

                “You can get back to reading, if you want,” I say softly.

                “For a little bit,” he says, setting me down so he can get off the bed. It suddenly feels cold without his arms around me, and I walk over to the suitcase to get a hoodie. “I’ll give you the book that you were reading last night back if you promise not to drool on it.”

                “Maybe later,” I shrug. I fish my newer diary out of my suitcase, snap the top on my pen, and begin to write.


	53. Chapter 53

                “Tori?”

                “Mmhmm?”

                It’s Tuesday now, and I’ve done a lot of scribbling in my diary. _A lot_ of scribbling. Hieronymous is teasing me that I’m writing my own novel, but there doesn’t seem like much else to do. Hieronymous says he has a special surprise for me, and is simply working out the details of it, so I let him work. What’s important is that he cuddles up to me and holds me close at night, and we wake up in the mornings snuggled into each other and stay in bed until noon just snogging. What matters is that we are comfortable with each other. We can take things a step further later, but we need to establish a kind of trust first.

                “Tori?”

                “I said MMM,” I say loudly, rolling over to face him. That’s when I realize I had been leaning with my arm covering my mouth. “What’s up?”

                The chair that he is sitting in swivels away from his desk. “Are you still living out of your suitcase?”

                “Uh,” I glance over at my suitcase. “Yeah,” I shrug. _What brought this on?_

“You do know that I moved things out of my bottom drawer so you can use it?” he asks.

                “Thanks,” I shrug. “But the suitcase is fine.”

                He sighs. “Tori, you live here now. I want you to be comfortable.”

                “I am comfortable,” I reply. “I just, I like having all of my things together. It’s just…handy. I don’t know.”

                “Tori, the thing is an eye sore.”

                I sit up as I look at him. “You know this marriage is not going to be a long and happy one if you insult my luggage.”

                “I just mean, I don’t like your suitcase just lying out in the middle of the room,” he says. “Please? You’re going to be living here for the next two years at the very least.”

                “Because you said please,” I mutter. The truth was, I liked having my suitcase within arm’s reach of the bed, so I didn’t have to go all the way over to his dresser. And the bottom drawer? That meant I had to bend over whenever I wanted to get anything out of it, even though it was considerably bigger than the others.

                Mimicking the way Ellen used to reorganize her dresser, I dump my suitcase out onto the bed, keeping the pictures of my family carefully tucked inside a zippered pouch. I’m not sure why, but I don’t want Hieronymous to see my parents. He never met them, never would meet them, and it just was a part of my life that wasn’t who I was anymore. I was a different Tori now. My parents would probably not even recognize me even if their memories hadn’t been wiped.

                I lean the almost-empty suitcase against the wall for Hieronymous to put away later and began to fold my clothes. “Want some help with that?” Hieronymous asks.

                “No,” I snap. “No magic.”

                He eyes me wearily as I sort my clothes out into various piles. A bunch of socks, mostly plain black ones for class, but a couple of fuzzy, funky colored ones for sleep time. A bunch of girl boxer briefs, which I found to be a lot more comfortable under my robes than just panties. A bunch of tank tops and camisoles which I wore under my robes for much of the same reason. After a bunch of boys had been found playing in the courtyard with some girl’s bra last year, I had sworn off them. Pubescent teenager boys were far less interested in tank tops than they were in bras.

                Shifting over to the other side of the bed, I fold and organize about half a dozen tee shirts, mostly ranging from black to royal blue, which a few purple ones thrown in for good measure. Three pairs of jeans, a bunch of shorts, two pairs of leggings, two pairs of sweatpants and three hoodies. And, of course, my robes.

                I look up to see Hieronymous watching me intently. “Folding laundry. Riveting stuff, I know.”

                I magically open up the drawer and begin to cross back and forth across the room, loading stuff in. It all fits, and there’s a decent amount of space left over. “Where’s the rest of it?”

                “The rest of what?”

                “Your clothes?” he asks.

                I blink at him. “You just saw me unpack.”

                “And that’s it?” he asks. “That’s all the clothes you have?”

                “Yes?”

                “Where’s your formal wear?”

                I dig into the drawer and hold out a pair of black skinny jeans and a purple tee shirt with a deep V-neck. “I mean, it’s kind of formal. It looks better when it’s on me.” He’s staring at me incredulously. “I mean, hey, at least the V-neck detracts from my sneakers.” I give him a sarcastic thumbs up, but he doesn’t look impressed.

                “How am I supposed to take you anywhere?” he sighs.

                “Take me-?” My cheeks flush scarlet as the insinuation. “Take me where?” He just shakes his head and looks away. “On a date? Are you asking me out on a date?”

                “I’m not asking you anywhere in those rags,” he says dismissively.

                “How dare you,” I snap. “These are the clothes my _parents_ bought me.”

                “Tori-“

                “I haven’t bought hardly _any_ new clothes since I’ve been here,” I say. “Except for another pair of jeans, and that hoodie, and more socks, because I get holes in them from walking around in them all the time. And another pair of sneakers for Sports Club, which, as it turns out, was a smart idea, because the last ones I had seemed to be _soaked through with my blood_.”

                “Tori, I simply meant-“

                “I don’t care what you meant,” I spit. “Like you’re one to really talk? All you do is wear those robes all day or walk around shirtless.”

                He sighs and gets up, walking into the closet and flicking on the light. I follow him inside to see six suits hanging against the far wall. “Why? Why do you have any need for those?” I ask.

                He sighs. “In case the situation _calls_ for it.”

                “When would it call for it?” I ask. “You don’t go anywhere.”

                “That does not mean one should not be prepared,” he responds.

                I go back to the room and scooch back onto the bed, facing him. “So you’re saying you want me to get a dress?”

                “I’m not saying anything,” he says, holding up his hands.

                “No, but you’re implying something,” I cross my arms over my chest as he sits back down in his chair.

                “I just mean I can’t take you nice places if you don’t have anything nice to wear,” he says finally.

                “Nice places?” I echo. “Like The Glen?”

                He looks back at me to see if I’m being sarcastic, but I’m honestly not trying to be sarcastic or difficult. These are my clothes. I am literally just a simple high school girl that knows magic. My mother worked part-time at a coffee shop and my father worked in a corporate office selling insurance. We weren’t poor, we were just…average. And we definitely weren’t British nobility. We pretty much never went out to eat, or if we did, it was to a local small-town diner, where wearing a dress was definitely overkill. 

                An uncomfortable silence passes between us. “Look, Tori-“

                “No, it’s fine,” I say quickly. “It’s important to have clothes for every occasion. I get it. You never know what _situations_ could arise.” I stand up and walk over to my suitcase. “I wasn’t entirely honest with you. That wasn’t _all_ the clothes I have.”

                I open it on the floor so that he can see inside, so he can see that it’s empty. I hold my hand out in one corner and utter a string of syllables underneath my breath. It’s a complicated charm, but Professor Potsdam wanted to ensure that no one was able to find it. It appears in front of us and I reach out and stand up, holding the creamy white fabric against myself.

                “Do you remember this?” I ask, my eyebrows raised.

                The look that crosses his face is immediate as I look down and admire it. Creamy white with gossamer sleeves and blue lace to match my hair. My wedding dress.

                “You still have this?” he asks, reaching out to rub the material in his fingers.

                “Well, what else was I supposed to do with it?” I shrug. “Professor Potsdam said to consider it a wedding present. And Minnie gave me twenty-five dollars, so it wasn’t really such a raw deal after all.” I shrug. “I almost died, but instead I gained a husband that hated me, twenty-five bucks, a dress, and lunch.” I think for a moment. “And dinner. Professor Potsdam wanted to make sure I wouldn’t burst out in tears the second I got back to campus and draw suspicion.”

                “Twenty-five dollars?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

                “I am pretty sure that was literally either all the money Minnie or Professor Potsdam had on her.” I shrug. “I don’t know, they said I should get some sort of gift.”

                He shakes his head, rubbing his lower lip with the edge of his thumb. “Tori, when I think back to how I treated you that day-“

                “Don’t,” I say. “Don’t do that. I mean, yes, it would have been nice if you were _nicer_ to me, but maybe if you had been we wouldn’t be here now. So it all worked out for the best.”

                He stands up and smiles down at me. “You looked beautiful in that dress.”

                “Well I better have,” I tease. “Potsdam stuffed an apple in my mouth and made me stand perfectly still for what seemed like hours while she fitted me. Black magic is not an exact science, you know.”

                “Oh, the horror.”

                “No, I think the horror was being led down into a dungeon to get married,” I say. “And then my new husband having the nerve to say that he would not demean himself to kiss me on our wedding day.”

                “Am I ever going to live that down?” he asks. “You know, we can always have another marriage to renew our vows in the future. If you want.”         

                I hesitate and offer him the dress. “Then you better hang this in your closet next to _your_ wedding robes. Because I am _not_ getting fitted again.”

                “Fair enough,” he says as he disappears into the closet.

                “Actually, I mean, I like my dress, but your robes?” I ask. “I mean, really, fuchsia? And orange?”

                He reappears a moment later. “Those colors are _customary._ They’re traditional.”

                “Traditionally ugly?” I ask with a smirk.

                “Please, you should have seen your face,” he says with a dark glint in his eye. “You couldn’t stop staring. You were _drooling_ over me.”

                “Drooling?” I scoff. “Don’t make me laugh. You were the one who was checking me out. I was the one who was appalled by your choice of atti-“

                His lips crash against mine and I throw my arms around his neck as he kisses me deeply. We collapse backwards onto the bed and pass away the afternoon.


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked me to give Tori a tragic backstory. I originally intended this chapter to be filler, and then it turned into something more.......

                “What are you writing?” he asks me on Friday morning.

                “A gentleman wouldn’t ask and a lady wouldn’t tell,” I reply curtly. It’s true, I have been writing a lot, but there’s no good way to tell him that I have been documenting my memories in excruciating detail in case anything ever happened to them again. It would only make him worry about me, and I didn’t want to have that conversation.

                Instead of responding, he gets up and walks over to the bed, sitting down across from me. I pull my diary a little closer to me and keep writing until I finish my thought. “Can I help you with something?”

                “I have a surprise for you.”

                “A surprise?” I ask, sitting up. “You mean, the thing you were looking into?”

                “I can do it,” he replies. “But the magics are very advanced and I simply wanted to make sure that we were both safe while engaging in-“

                “Safe?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “Is this a sex thing?”

                “No,” he sighs. “Tori, just, close your eyes.”

                “You’re not making me feel any better that this isn’t a sex thing,” I murmur.

                “It’s not a surprise if I explain,” he insists.

                “Well, I hate surprises.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Especially if it’s not entirely safe or whatever. Explain.” He hesitates. “I won’t like it any less if you tell me what it is.”

                “Fair,” he relents, but he suddenly seems nervous. “I thought you might like it if you could go back.”

                “Go back?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

                “Into your past,” he repeats. “It’s a form of astral projection where we can go back into your memories and re-visit them, so to speak. You would be in a state of consciousness, like lucid dreaming.”

                “So I would be reliving a memory,” I say slowly. “But I would be like, aware of it? Like I would be acting it out?”

                “Precisely,” he replies. “It would basically be entering a reality based on your memory that corresponds to your decisions from within your memories.”

                I hesitate. “And why do I want to do this?”

                “I thought it might help me get to know you better,” he says. “To see what you were like before you came to Iris.”

                “I really wasn’t all that special,” I hesitate. “I don’t know if I want to go back there. I don’t know if I want to go back there for real.”

                “It’s not for real,” he says. “We’ll be sitting in this room. We’re just going back in your mind.”

                “I guess,” I gulp. “It’s not going to hurt or anything, right?”

                “Doubtful,” he replies, and I roll my eyes.

                “Okay, so like, what are we going back to, exactly?” I ask. “Because it’s not like I have anything to hide, but I don’t think you want to watch me just sit around all day playing video games.”

                “That’s up to you,” he says. “You’ll have to concentrate on your happiest memory, or one that stands out the most.”

                “But my life was boring and uneventful,” I insist. “I don’t have one that just sticks out.”

                “I guess we’ll see where we land then,” he says, putting his fingertips on either side of my head. “Now close your eyes and concentrate.”

                “Okay, but I don’t think this is going to work.” I take a deep breath and try to steady myself. Happy memories. Happy memories of before I was at Iris. I don’t want to go back too far. I don’t want him to see me as a little kid in cartoon pajamas. The memory of my parents and I on the beach was private, for my eyes only. So something from when I was older then. Before I came to Iris, maybe the year before I went to Iris-

                I feel wind on my face as I open my eyes. I take the world in around me and gasp, putting my hands over my mouth. I spin around and look at Hieronymous. “We’re here.” For some reason, we are standing on the high school track at my old school. I can see the school building beyond the parking lot, I can see the old, rusting bleachers, the two sand pits for the long jump that had been there forever and the rough asphalt of the track.

                I look down at myself. I am in my school colors, yellow and red, wearing really short red shorts with a yellow tank top that just barely reaches the hem of my shorts that has my school’s name on it in bright red letters. My hair is pulled into a high ponytail and I grab one strand and look: I’m blonde again.

                “Where are we?” he asks, puzzling at the surroundings.

                “On my high school track,” I tell him. “I think this is our first day of track practice, the year before I came to Iris.”

                He stops looking around to focus on me. “That’s a new look for you,” he says, and I immediately feel the need to cover myself.

                “This is so weird,” I whisper to him, but he taps on his forehead.

                “No one else can see me but you,” he says. “Anything you want to say to me, think it. Unless you want people to think you’re talking to yourself, that is.”

                “People?” I ask.

                “Tori!” I hear someone shout my name and I spin around suddenly, trying to suppress a gasp.

                “Jessica?” She wraps her arms around me, and I hug her back, burying my face in her shoulder. Jessica is a little bit taller than me, long blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes that accent her round face. She had been my best friend since second grade, and since we spent so much time together and looked so much alike, people sometimes assumed that we were twins.

                “You’re always the first one out here,” she says teasingly as another girl comes up behind her. She’s shorter, with dark brown curly hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head.

                “Hey Vanessa.” I’m about to hug her too, before I realize that I’m not typically a very huggy person.

                “Hey,” she replies casually. “Daniel was looking for you.”

                “Daniel?” Jessica looks at me, a gleam in her eye. “What for?”

                “He borrowed my guitar over the summer,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “It’s nothing, he’s just looking to give it back.”

                “Mmhmm,” Jessica says, putting her hands on her hips.

                “Daniel?” Vanessa asks. “Do you have a thing for Daniel?”

                “I don’t have a thing for Daniel,” I tell her flatly. “Besides, Daniel is dating Becky Stevenson.”

                “Not since last month,” Vanessa says. “I heard he was dating Diana what’s-her-name?”

                “No, she doesn’t have a thing for Daniel,” Jessica says, still looking at me. “Cause she has a thing for Professor Chapman.”

                “I do not,” I exclaim.

                “Oh, so you’ve always had a thing for your teachers?” Hieronymous’ voice floats in my head and I blush scarlet but don’t respond.

                “She doesn’t know, does she?” Vanessa asks, looking between me and Jessica.

                “Know what?” I demand.

                “That he’s the new track coach now?” she asks, raising her eyebrows, and I spin from her to look at Jessica.

                “Bryan is the new track coach?” I ask.

                “Well, yeah,” Jessica says. “I mean someone had to take over after-“ she shifts. “-you know.”

                “Yeah,” I say lamely, but the truth is that I don’t know. I don’t even remember. I’m just floored that I’m standing here, talking to Jessica, as if absolutely nothing had changed between us.

                A few other girls come over to join us as we stretch before practice. I don’t see Hieronymous around, but I figure he’s probably watching from somewhere far off, or off exploring the grounds or something.

                “Doesn’t anyone around here wear any clothes?” Hieronymous asks with a sigh, and at the same time Jessica taps me.

                “Your face is going to go red in about five seconds if you look up,” Jessica whispers, and my eyes dart up to see Bryan Chapman, the new track coach, coming this way. He’s wearing short red shorts as well and the same yellow tee shirt with the red school logo emblazoned on it, but it looks about a size too small and its pulling at the shoulders. I’m not the only one who’s checking him out.

                “Hey girls,” he says.

                There’s a resounding chorus of sweet, girlish, “Hey Bryan” and I think I can almost hear Hieronymous roll his eyes. As he starts introducing himself as our new coach, his British accent starts to become more apparent.  

                “Oh, he’s English,” Hieronymous notes from somewhere in the back of my head. “So I’m the second English professor that you’ve had affections for? Is this a trend I should be aware of?”

                _You are enjoying this_ way _too much_ , I think back. _You’re just jealous you can’t wear shorts half as well as he can._

“Please,” Hieronymous scoffs. “I have no desire to-“

                “Come on,” Jessica grabs my arm and pulls me towards the track. “Stop spacing out. I know he’s hot but you’re going to have a hard time keeping up this year if you don’t pay attention.”

                “How many laps?” I ask quickly.

                “Four times and over the fence,” she says. “Easy first day.” It’s not so much as a fence as it is a gate that is sometimes left out over the track after people are done cleaning it. It’s only about four feet tall, and so it’s really easy to jump over, since there’s no good way to run around it.

                “Let’s see you try to catch me this year,” Jessica calls over her shoulder as she breaks into a sprint. The rest of the girls are jogging the first lap, warming up, but I tear after Jessica until we’re almost a tenth of a mile ahead of the pack.

                It feels good to run again, to stretch my legs, and I can easily see why this is the memory I’ve chosen to go back to. I’ve spent the entire week cooped up in Hieronymous’ room and I’d been avoiding Sports Club because of the gym. I miss getting out and running and doing sports.

                “Come on, Tori, you slowpoke,” Jessica calls from ahead of me. I grit my teeth and run faster, although I can feel an unpleasant cramp in my side. My feet pounding against the asphalt, the wind in my hair, all these sensations were all too real. Even as I grab the fence in one hand and throw my legs over it, I can still feel the cool, rusted metal underneath my palm. I land roughly and continue to run, chasing after her. Nothing has changed; she’s still faster than me.

                “So this is your happiest memory?” Hieronymous asks me as I run, my arms pumping at my sides.

                _I don’t know about happiest,_ I say back. _Maybe the most normal? I don’t know. I think I’ve just been cooped up for too long. I miss Sports Club. I miss running._

I keep going around the track, four times, until I collapse on the grass beside Jessica. My sides are aching, my lungs are burning, and I am totally and utterly exhausted. _Am I really this out of shape or was I just out of shape that day?_

“Good job,” Jessica mutters lazily as she high fives me. I see a shadow fall over me and at first I think it’s Hieronymous before I realize that it’s Bryan Chapman.

                “Really good work today, Tori,” he says. His voice reminds me of Jason, and suddenly I have a bad taste in my mouth. “I really liked the way you went over that fence. Good job.”

                “Thank you,” I mutter, still winded. He goes over to talk to someone else and Jessica turns to me.

                “I especially liked the way you went over that fence,” she repeats, mimicking his tone, and I roll my eyes, ripping up a handful of grass and throwing it at her.

                We giggle and talk for a little bit, and for a moment I forget that this is just some hallucination that Hieronymous dragged us into. For a moment I can feel the sun of my face and the sweat on my skin and the soft tickle of grass under my legs and think that this is real.

                “Hey,” she says to me suddenly, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I think your parents are here.”

                “Huh?” I pull my legs into myself and sit up slightly, following her gaze. My parents are here, getting out of my dad’s golden minivan. I tilt my head to the side as they get out and wait at the gate for me. It’s weird, usually my dad works late, and I can’t remember a time when my parents picked me up together. My mom waves at me, but my dad just turns away, his hands on his hips, and-

                “No.” I kick dirt up in a flurry, and Jessica turns around to look at me sharply. “I forgot something. In the school.”

                My legs are burning but I run as fast as I can towards the school, ducking inside through the girl’s locker room. “Get me out of here, Hieronymous,” I say as I exit the locker room and head out into the hall. Suddenly I can see Hieronymous; he’s walking beside me.

                “Tori, calm down, what’s wrong?”

                “I said get me out of here,” I repeat. I can see people looking at me strangely, people with familiar faces, and I could probably remember their names if I tried to. I make a left at a staircase, and then walk through the library as fast as I can, ducking into a narrow hallway that held the janitor’s office and their bathrooms. They weren’t nice by any means, but they were _private_ and that’s what I needed right now.

                “Get me out of here, Hieronymous,” I yell. “End the spell, now.”

                “Tori-“ he starts.              

                “This isn’t real.” My heart is beating too fast and I spot myself in the mirror, the tight yellow shirt, the blonde hair. It’s wrong. It isn’t me anymore, it’s not who I am. Spurred by impulse, I take my fist and drive it through the mirror, punching the hard stone wall on the other side. “This isn’t _real_ ,” I scream again. My fist is hurting, my wrist is hurting, and it might even be broken. There’s bits of glass shards in my skin and I try to heal myself, but it doesn’t work. “Magic, I can’t do magic.” Of course I couldn’t do magic; I hadn’t gone to school to learn how to do spells yet.

                “I need to get out,” I yell. The pain in my wrist is reaching increasingly high levels and I don’t know what to do but I just need to get out of here. “This isn’t real-“ I slip down onto my knees, cradling my wrist to my chest. I have no idea where Hieronymous is. Did he just leave me here? “This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real-“

                “Tori, focus.” I can’t see him, but I can hear his voice. “Tori, I need you to calm down and focus.”

                I close my eyes and grab for the stone, but it’s not there. I scratch at my skin, trying to find the stone. “It’s not here, it’s not here-“

                “Tori, I need you to breathe, okay? Stop-“

                I close my eyes and pretend I have the stone in my fist. I try to feel the pulse of his heartbeat, in and out, in and out, in and out, in and-

                I can feel the stone in my fingertips and I grab it, squeezing it into my palm. “Hieronymous, bring me back.”

                “You’re back,” he says, and I open my eyes to see him sitting in front of me.

                In a dash of panic, I throw myself off the bed and jump to my feet, rushing into the bathroom. Blue hair, my pajamas, I’m still me. I look down at my wrist. It’s not hurt, it’s not broken, there’s no blood, or glass, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.

                Hieronymous appears in the doorway, and I quickly hold up my hand and use push magic. He slides backwards a little ways on the carpet and I sigh. I have my magic. Everything’s here. It was just a dream. An illusion. No harm done.

                “Tori-“

                “I said I didn’t want to do that,” I yell. I’m not crying, that must have only been in the hallucination, but my voice is still shaky with tears. “What did you learn from that? What was the point?”

                “I just-“ He shook his head. “I just thought since you couldn’t go back for Spring Break, you could at least see it. Relive it. I know you wanted-“  

                “You don’t know what I want,” I yell at him. “How would you like it if I did that to you? Make you relive your past?”

                “Your magic’s not advanced enough,” he says.

                “Like that matters,” I spit back. “You wouldn’t let me in. You wouldn’t-“

                “Tori,” he repeats, and I look at him. “What happened?”

                “Did you see them?” I ask. “Did you see my parents?”

                “At a distance, yes,” he repeats, although he looks confused. “Didn’t you want to see your parents?”

                “Not like that,” I say. “I-“ I look at him. There’s so much I haven’t told him. There’s so much I haven’t told anyone, not just because it wasn’t anyone’s business, but because it didn’t matter. It wasn’t part of my life anymore.

                I walk past him back into the bedroom and lay on the bed. “I’m sorry for freaking out,” I say softly.

                He sits down on the bed and lies down, facing opposite me. “I could have had you out of there immediately if you had just calmed down.”

                “Well,” I shrug. “I guess now I’m kind of obligated to tell you, aren’t I?”

                “Tori-“ he starts, but I just shake my head.

                “It’s weird telling you,” I say. “I mean, yeah, you’re my husband and everything but I’ve never told anyone this, none of my friends, no one. The reason my parents picked me up together that day was because they told me they were getting a divorce.”

                “I didn’t know your parents were divorced,” he says.

                “They’re not,” I explain. “I mean-“ I shift my eyes to the side and say it as fast as I can get it out. “My mom found out my dad was cheating on her with someone. Or multiple someone’s. I don’t know, they wouldn’t tell me, I just heard some of the fighting.” I hesitate. “A lot of the fighting. Anyway, the money was all tied up in the house and so they just stayed together after that. And they were always super nice to each other, at least in front of me.” I cast my eyes down. “I think my mom only stayed with him because of me. But now that they’ve forgotten me, who knows? They can go on and live their separate lives. I don’t know why, I guess I just, chose to kind of forget that.”

                I don’t even realize that I have the stone clenched tightly in one fist. “I mean, it’s better this way, right? That they’ve forgotten me? I guess it was selfish, trying to keep us all together. But they’re not my parents anymore. I’m not their daughter anymore. Now I’m just some person.” I shrug. I look at him, but he’s watching me with such sad eyes that I have to look away. “I guess you have a similar relationship with your father, huh?”

                “Sometimes I envy the choice you wildseeds get to make,” he says. “To just make your parents forget you. If I could, I would make my father forget me in a heartbeat.” I wait for him to go on. “He wanted to groom me, to be just like him, to take up the family seat in government, but I never wanted any of it.” He hesitates. “It was Violet who told me that I didn’t have to do it. It was Violet who told me I should get out of England and be my own person.” He shakes his head. “And after what happened to her, I did. I cut off all contact with my father and came to America, finished school, and got a job teaching here. I never looked back.”

                “That’s good,” I say quietly. “That she was able to help you…you know.”

                His eyes look back up to meet mine. “You don’t like it when I talk about her.”

                “No, it’s not that,” I say quietly. “No, she was a really important person in your life, and I just…”

                “Tori-“

                “Did you know Jessica died?” It was something I never planned on telling him, but I can’t listen to him miss her. I can’t listen to the hint of longing in his voice every time he says her name, I just can’t.

                “What?” His forehead creases in confusion. “The girl you just-?”

                “We knew each other since second grade,” I whisper, saying anything to stop me from thinking about Violet. “The first time I drank vodka was with her. We were twelve. Well, I was twelve, she was thirteen. She found her parents stash on the table and she talked me into trying it with her when her parents were out. A few hours later they came back to us throwing up all over their living room. We were grounded for a month.”

                “The Christmas before I went away to school is the last time we hung out. We actually didn’t really hang out much before that, because she got a boyfriend and she was spending all her time with him. But, yeah. It was during Christmas break and we were off from school. My parents got a phone call that she had gotten into a car with someone she shouldn’t have after New Year’s and they crashed the car and she….died.”

                He frowns and opens his mouth to speak, but I stop him. “I can’t imagine how you felt about losing Violet, but I can sort of relate. I miss Jessica too sometimes. Like, we grew up together and I’ll just be walking to class and sometimes I’ll think of something funny that I’ll want to tell her, but I can’t. Cause she’s not there anymore, so for me, it’s just easier to pretend that she wasn’t real. Like she was someone I just made up. And then it doesn’t really hurt anymore. So I guess that’s why I picked that memory to go back to. It was just a nice, normal day hanging out with her, like we always did.”

                He doesn’t say anything, so I keep going. “So maybe I can’t understand exactly, but I can understand the feeling of leaving your home and never wanting to go back, because I don’t want to go back either. I mean, it’s hard to face the fact that part of the reason I didn’t want to let my parents go was because I didn’t want to face the fact that they’ll probably be happier people separate than together. And now my best friend’s gone and my parents are gone and I can’t get them back even if I wanted to, but for some reason I don’t. I don’t want to. There’s nothing left for me there, and sometimes I’m upset with myself that I don’t feel worse about just putting it all behind me.”

                I shake my head. “I don’t know if I have any real friends here, but I have magic, and I have you, and that’s enough. I have all I want right here.”

                He closes the gap between us, kissing me softly, gently, and I kiss him back.

                “I know you want to look ahead and erase your past,” he says softly. “But you can’t do that. You’re right, you can never go back there, and the people you cared about are gone, but you can’t close yourself off to how you feel about it and pretend it didn’t happen.”

                “Is that what you were trying to do today?” I ask softly. “To get me to open up about my past?”

                He shrugs. “You seemed to be struggling with figuring out how much you’ve changed. I just figured this was the best way to show you that you haven’t changed at all.”

                I force a smile to my lips. “Stop knowing me so well. It’s creepy. It’s like you get inside my head sometimes.”

                “I’m not the only one,” he says. “Do you remember what you said to me? About Violet? That even if I loved you, I would never forget her. It’s like you saw right through me and what I was afraid of.”

                “Oh,” I say softly. I do remember saying that, but I’m not sure what else there is for me to say.

                “Do you remember what you said after that?” he asks.

                I take a deep breath. I don’t like this conversation at all, but I repeat what I had said regardless. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

                “ _That_ was you right there,” he says quietly. “I know that wasn’t easy for you to say then, or now, but that was you, giving me your kindness and your courage. It’s what made me fall in love with you.”

                I open my mouth but no words come out, and so I let him keep talking. “You are rash, and impulsive, and childish, and frustrating, and you never seem to know when to stop talking. But underneath it all, you _care_ , Tori. And I can see it. And your friends can see it. You are strong and you are selfless and you are brave and you are scared, just like me, but you never let it stop you. And that is why I love you.”

                “Kiss me,” I say urgently, and he grabs me around the back of the neck and kisses me, pulling me close to him. I curl my legs between his and kiss him back, running one hand along his side, and one hand tangling in his hair. He wraps both of his arms around me, squeezing me to him, and I break the kiss to cuddle into his neck.

                “Am I going to have to make a speech about all the reasons I love you?” I ask quietly. “Because I don’t think I can top that.”

                “I watched you almost give your life for me,” he says, running his hands through my hair. “I think that topped it.”

                “You don’t need to say it every day,” I tell him after a minute. “Just when you really, really mean it.”

                He kisses my temple. “What if I want you to hear it every day?”

                I roll over onto my side so I can see his face. “Do _you_ want to hear it every day?”

                He cocks his head to the side as if he’s thinking about it. “Could be nice.”

                “Hieronymous,” I say softly. “I love you.”

                It takes a moment before we both burst out laughing. It sounds ridiculously forced and not authentic at all, but he still knows that I mean it. “Stop talking and kiss me,” he says, and I gladly cover his mouth with my own.


	55. Chapter 55

                “How was your Spring Break?” Virginia asks me as she, Ellen and I sit around in the cafeteria, eating lunch on Monday.

                “Progress,” I reply firmly, and both of them look up at me.

                “Progress?” Ellen repeats.

                “Progress,” I repeat quickly. “With um, black magic. I made some progress.”

                “Don’t get weird on us,” Virginia says. “If things happened with Grabby, you can tell us.”

                I bite my lip and look down. “We, uh, confessed our undying love for each other.” They both burst out laughing but then stop when they see the look on my face.

                “Are you serious?” Virginia asks. 

                “Don’t tell anyone,” I hiss. “I mean, I already had kind of confessed it when I was actually dying, but uh, yeah, we had a really deep conversation about the past and stuff and he, uh, told me he loved me.”

                “But you guys didn’t-?” Virginia asks.

                “No,” I huff, shifting my eyes back and forth to make sure no one else was listening in to our conversation.

                “Old Grabby pants,” Virginia snickers. “I don’t understand it, I don’t want to understand it, but I am nonetheless intrigued.”

                “Well, are you intrigued enough to come with us on a double date on Saturday?” I ask. “Him, me, you and Ellen. The four of us. At the Glen. So you can get to know him better.”

                “I don’t know-“ Ellen stammers.

                “What’s this about the Glen?” Donald asks, sitting down next to Ellen.

                “Double date,” I say. “You’re not invited.”

                Donald makes a face. “A date with Grabby? I’m not interested, although I did hear that he was super mean in class today.”

                “Was he?” I ask. I had taken green magic with Professor Potsdam today, figuring Hieronymous and I could use a short break from each other after spending the entire week together. “He was too nice this week. He needs to work it out of his system.”

                “They professed their undying love for each other,” Virginia tells Donald. “Apparently it was all very romantic.”

                “Really?” Donald asks, and he looks confused for a moment. I glare at him, and he just shrugs as he chomps down on a piece of pizza. “I don’t know, it’s just weird to me. You don’t seem like his type.”

                “Type?” I echo, my face flushing.

                “He just likes her because she’s not afraid to stand up to him,” Virginia says, winking at me.

                “And because I am caring,” I say. “And selfless, and brave, and nice, and funny, and smart. And because he gets me. And I get him. He’s interesting. He knows a lot about the world and he’s smart and he’s fun to talk to-“

                “Okay, okay,” Virginia holds up her hands. “Geez, Tori, I’ve never seen you all worked up like this. About anything.”

                “Well-“ I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Last year it was a secret and most of this year I didn’t remember any of it myself. So we are making up for lost time.”

                “I bet you are,” Donald murmurs under his breath, and Ellen hits his arm.

                “What do you think your parents would say?” Ellen asks. “About your relationship? Were you thinking about telling them? I mean, you are legally married to him, so you could probably tell them that, although I don’t think you can mention how it all came about.”

                I flush and push the pasta around my plate with my fork. “My parents don’t know who I am anymore.”

                “You mean-“ Ellen looks up at me. “You made the choice too?”

                “Yeah,” I murmur. “I, uh, I’m not sure if I really made the choice, or Damien sort of tricked me into making the choice, but long story is, yeah. They don’t remember me anymore.”

                “I’m sorry,” Donald says quietly. Virginia is silent as she looks away.

                “It’s fine.” I look up quickly. “It happened back over Christmas break, but I didn’t want to bother you guys with it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Hieronymous is my family now. He’s the only person I need.”

                “It’s still weird to hear you say his name,” Ellen says.

                “I still can’t even pronounce it,” Donald chimes in.

                “So what do you say?” I ask, turning back to Virginia. “Dinner date? This Saturday? We can go to the mall and hang out beforehand, so it’s a little less weird?”

“You sure this is a good idea?” Virginia asks. “Like, I don’t want him to scorch my eyebrows off or anything just because I have bad table manners.”

                “It will be fine,” I say dismissively. “Besides, Virginia, he’s _paying_. Free food.”

                “You sure know how to rope me in,” Virginia relents. “Fine, count me in. But you better warn him to be on his best behavior.”

                “He is a nice person,” I state firmly. “And you, Ellen? You in?”

                “Are you sure you want me to come?” she asks.

                “Yes,” I say firmly. “You two are both super smart. You two can debate some lofty concept while me and Virginia fling food at each other from across the table.”  

                “That sounds like a plan to me,” Virginia says through a mouthful of food.

                It’s a good while before Hieronymous gets back from classes and whatever else he has to do, and so I sit on his bed, transcribing what happened today in painstaking detail in my diary. At this point, I’m going to need a new diary every month instead of every year at the pace I’m writing, but I’m not too concerned about it. It gives me something to do, especially when he is gone so often.

                But as I hear shuffling outside the door, I put down my pen mid-thought and rush over to the door where he is coming in. “You’re home,” I say excitedly, bounding over to where he’s standing.

                “Yes,” he says, eyeing me up and down. He walks over to the desk and puts down the large tome he has been carrying around. “What’s wrong?”

                I frown at him and repeat his question with a different inflection. “What’s wrong?”

                “Well, by the way you scampered over here,” he says, gesturing with his hand for me to continue.

                “I was just happy to see you,” I shrug. “I know you were really stressed out all day and everyone else was probably cowering in fear of you, so I just wanted to show you that there is one person on this campus who is happy to see you.”

                 His face relaxes and I lean into him, kissing him gently on the lips. “How was your day?”

                “It was fine,” I say, hopping back onto the bed. “Uh, Ellen and Virginia are good for Saturday. So, whatever time you think is best. I figured I could meet them there first and then that way it’s hopefully a little less weird.”

                He sighs. “Must we?”

                “We must,” I reply. “I mean, I had lunch with them today and they feel like my friends again, but I just want them to know that you’re really not all bad.” I see the look on his face. “Two people will not ruin your reputation as a bitter, nasty person, I promise.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I, uh, I told them about my parents today.”

                He looks back up at me. “You didn’t before?”

                There’s nothing I can say to that so I just shrug, letting my shoulders rise and fall sharply. “It didn’t come up.”

                “While I understand that you value your privacy,” he clears his throat. “I would appreciate that when important matters arise-“

                “I’ll tell you,” I say. “But I trust you. Implicitly.”

                “Yes, well.” He looks away, but I can tell he secretly looks pleased. “Hopefully I will never be put in a position where I would violate your trust.”

                “You’ve already read my diary without me knowing,” I shrug. “I don’t think there’s much else you could do.”

                He just shakes his head and walks into his closet. I can hear him fumbling with something, and he soon reemerges with a yellow manila envelope that is packed with something.

                “What is that?”

                “Your wedding present,” he replies simply. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have a wash-“

                “Hold on,” I say as I scoot off the bed and walk over to where he placed it down on his desk. “What is this?” I peek inside the envelope to see money. Bundles of money. I quickly close it and put it down on the desk. “How much is that?”

                “Enough,” he replies, confused by the look on my face.

                “It’s too much,” I say. I don’t know how much there is, but unless those are dollar bills, I can probably assume that there isn’t anything less than a thousand in there.

                “Tori,” he says softly. “I do owe you a wedding present, as well as an apology for how I treated you that day. Trust me when I say that while to you that is no small sum-“

                “There’s plenty more where that came from?” I ask, and he nods.

                “As you noted, besides my books I have nothing to spend it on,” he continues. “So do with it what you wish. Go to the mall, spend some of it on your friends, but for heaven’s sake, please do buy some nice clothes with it.”

                “I can do that,” I manage turning back to the money. “Uh, thank you.”

                The corners of his lips pull upwards in a smile as he steps into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. I take another peek in the envelope and then quickly shut it again, scurrying back to the bed. There’s so many things I can buy: new sneakers, a new hoodie, stuff from the magic store…

                …oh, and he’s probably also going to want me to get a dress. Good thing I’m going to have Ellen and Virginia going to the mall with me on Saturday, because I need help in the worst way.


	56. Chapter 56

                “Are we really helping you pick out nice formal clothes?” Virginia asks as we go through the third store in the mall. “Because, I mean, no offense, but I’m probably worse at this than you are.”

                “Yeah, well, we have Ellen,” I say, but she just shakes her head.

                “Maybe we should cool it for today,” Ellen suggests. “I mean, prom dresses will be going on sale next week, probably, so we can shop more then.”

                “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I agree, mostly because I’m just flat out exhausted at this point. We head over to the food court and buy sodas to tide us over until dinner.

                “So what’s going to happen tonight?” Virginia asks. “Is there anything important we should know? I don’t want to set him off.”

                “You’re not going to set him off,” I tell her. “Besides, I’ve already made him promise that he can’t give you demerits or detention for anything you say tonight. Within reason.”

                “So we can ask about school stuff?” Ellen asks.

                “Yeah, like that,” I say.

                “Cool,” Ellen says, leaning back in her chair. “I’ve always wanted to learn more about the Otherworld. Professor Potsdam said that’s not until later years, but-“

                “No,” I say sharply, and they both look at me. “No, um, please don’t mention the Otherworld around him.”

                Virginia tilts her head to the side. “Did something happen there?”

                “Please just-“ I hesitate. “No Otherworld discussions. Please. Just, consider anything about the Otherworld off limits.”

                “And personal questions?” Virginia asks.

                “Maybe those too,” I say. “In fact, just, probably avoiding his past would be a good idea.”

                “Okay,” Virginia says slowly. “Then what are we supposed to talk about? How are we supposed to get to know him?”

                “Just…interaction,” I shrug. “I don’t know. He’s more nervous about this than you guys are.”

                “Grabby? Nervous?” Ellen asks. “He doesn’t seem the type to get nervous.”

                “He’s shy,” I say. “Or at least, he can be. I don’t know. Professor Grabiner and Hieronymous are two different people.”

                “So do you really call him Hieronymous?” Virginia asks.

                “Yes?” I tilt my head to the side in confusion.

                “I don’t know,” Virginia shrugs and looks around. “It’s just weird. Like, it’s a big name. You don’t have like, pet names for each other or anything?”

                “Pet names?” I echo.

                “You know,” she goads. “Baby? Sweetheart?”

                “I am married to him and even I can’t picture him ever calling me that,” I say. “Although he probably will want you to call him Professor Grabiner. Though you can call him Hieronymous if he says you can.”

                “Honestly, this is kind of exciting,” Virginia says, and then she drops her voice. “I, uh, I talked to Jason, before-“ I almost drop my soda in my lap and she notices my reaction. “-he thinks we should be careful around him.”

                “You do know how ridiculous that sounds, right?” I ask. “We’re in a public place.”

                “I know,” Virginia says. “Like, I guess Jason just sees what the rest of us see. Not what you see.”

                “Well, hopefully you can see what I see,” I say confidently. “Well, I mean, you know. With more clothes.” I’m blushing so hard I have to look away, and Virginia’s eyebrows shoot up.               

                “Is he actually good looking underneath those robes?” she asks me in a whisper.

                “Yes,” I nod my head firmly in the affirmative. “He is very…. _toned_.”

                Ellen looks about as red as I am, but Virginia just laughs. “Girl, you have the hots for him bad, don’t you?”

                “I do,” I admit, then shrug. “I’m sorry, is it so wrong to have a crush on my husband?”

                “It’s not just your husband though, it’s Grabby,” Virginia continues. “It’s so weird.”

                “Well,” I shrug. “I got lucky. I got really lucky.”

                “It’s not just luck,” Ellen says. “You said you only had to be married for a year and a day. And you’re still married. That means you’re working on it. Luck got you there, but the rest is on you two.”

                “I guess so,” I shrug. We start to talk about other things, like Sports Club and the like, as the time winds down until we need to meet him at the Glen. We show up first and grab a table. It’s not really that busy, and I can see some seniors from school at a back table, but I’m not sure if that makes things better or worse.

                Ellen slides into one end of the table with Virginia following suit while I slide into the other side. “How do we order?” Virginia asks.

                “Uh, I’m not sure,” I say, pointing to the scrolls. “I know you can order off that, but I don’t know any of the languages.”

                “Uh-“ Virginia picks up a scroll and reads through it with Ellen peeking over her arm. “So how are we supposed to know what we’re getting then?” she asks.

                I shrug, letting my shoulders rise and drop. “We’re on his good humor?” I say.

                “Oh great,” Virginia says. “He’s going to make me eat something _healthy_ , isn’t he?”

                “I don’t know,” I say. I’m about to say more when suddenly I notice him coming towards us. He’s not dressed like him at all. He looks like he is dressed as a professor in a modern day university. He’s wearing a white shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, with a dark vest, under a tweed blazer.

                “Tori?” Virginia says, waving her hand in front of my face. “Tori, your face just got _red_ , what’s- oh.”

                I see a similar blush creep along her own cheeks as Hieronymous sits down beside me. “Um, hi,” she says.

                “Hello,” he says, raising his eyebrows pleasantly. “Ms. Danson. Ms. Middleton.”

                “You can just call them Virginia and Ellen,” I say quickly. “At least for today.”

                “Then I suppose I should exchange the same courtesy,” Hieronymous says. “And you may call me Hieronymous for tonight only as I am here not as your professor but as your friend’s husband.”

                “Right,” Virginia says, quickly recovering herself. “So, Hieronymous, do you and Tori come here often?”

                “We had our first date here,” he replies, but there’s something wrong with his tone. It’s too pleasant, it’s too normal, like we were just a bunch of friends hanging around.

                “It wasn’t a _date_ ,” I murmur. For some reason, I am unable to quell the heat rising from my cheeks. I look at Ellen, and she looks just about as red as I am. “I just almost passed out face first into a table of candles, that’s all.”

                “Seriously?” Virginia asks. “Man, you sure need a lot of rescuing.”

                “Oh, you’ve noticed that too?” Hieronymous asks. “I must thank you two for keeping such a good eye on her while she was in your company.”

                The waiter comes over and he and Hieronymous start to converse in another language. I have no idea what they’re saying and Virginia leans halfway over the table and cups her hand over her mouth. I see her form the words, “He’s kind of hot” but I just rub my temple with one hand and shake my head as I look away. This was my idea, but the whole thing was still super embarrassing. The only thing that makes this any better was that at least Ellen looks as bad as I feel.

                The waiter walks away, and Virginia turns back to Hieronymous. “So, now that you two are married and settled, as a stand-in for her parents, we need to ask you-“ she elbows Ellen in the side as if this was rehearsed, and they both clasp their hands together on the table and lean forward slightly, as if they’re discussing a business negotiation “-what your intentions are for our Tori.”

                I sink my face into the palm of my hand, but Hieronymous just laughs. It’s a light, happy sound, and both Virginia and Ellen look confused and off-balance for a second. “That’s very cute,” he replies. He takes my left hand with his right under the table and runs his thumb over my knuckles. “But that’s easy. To make her happy. To make sure she gets a good education. To make sure she finishes school in one piece.” He looks pointedly at me, but I can’t return his gaze.

                “And children?” Virginia asks. I feel my jaw go slack.

                “I don’t think that’s any of your concern,” he says demurely.

                “Well, it’s important for you both to be on the same page with what you want,” Virginia says. “That’s all I’m saying.”

                “And the thought is well appreciated,” Hieronymous says. “Virginia, you were raised in a magical family, were you not?”

                Virginia’s eyebrows shoot up. “Uh, yes, yes sir. Uh, yes.”

                “And both of your parents live here?” he asks.

                “Uh, yes,” Virginia says. “My dad sometimes goes to the, uh, Otherworld with my mom for business and stuff, but they mostly live here.” She shoots a glance at me but I shake my head ever so slightly. _You’re fine._

                “I had the pleasure of teaching William several times during his time at Iris,” he says. “He was a very bright student, very capable. I trust he’s doing well?”

                “Oh, he is,” Virginia says, looking almost surprised. “He’s doing very well in college.”

                “And your other brother?” he asks. “Donald, is it?”

                “Yes,” Virginia says. “We’re encouraging him to stay out of trouble. He likes to audition for the plays in the spring. It keeps him active and out of detention.”

                “That’s good to hear,” Hieronymous muses. “If you should see the younger Mr. Danson, please remind him that I would like to devote Saturday afternoons to tend to the needs of my beloved, and therefore any pranks he is considering should be highly discouraged.”

                Virginia looks at me. “That’s adorable,” she confesses, and I swear by now my face cannot get any redder.

                “And you, Ellen?” Hieronymous asks. “How do you like your time at Iris?”            

                “It’s good,” Ellen says, but it comes out as no more than a squeak.

                “I heard you are getting along very well in Professor Potsdam’s class,” he says. “She says you have an affinity for white magic.”

                “I do, sir,” she says, then nervously adds. “I’ve been studying white magic a lot. I want to live in the Otherworld someday.”

                Virginia looks at me and I glance back nervously. _Did she know this?_ Is that why she wanted to ask him about the Otherworld? I had told her not mention it. I can feel Hieronymous stiffen slightly, only because he is holding my hand, but otherwise I think it goes over mostly unnoticed.

                “Many witches and wizards choose to live in the Otherworld,” he says. His tone is off only so slightly that I’m not sure if they pick up on it, but I do. Or maybe I’m just listening for it. “Magic flows more freely there; however, it is a very dangerous place, especially for those of wildseed origin. I would give it a few more years and make sure to talk to Professor Potsdam about your pursuits. She can help teach you the proper warding’s to make sure you get over there _safely_. Many students have died or have fallen victim to unfortunate circumstances from crossing over to the Otherworld before they were ready.”

                Virginia’s eyes drift over to me, and I shift my gaze to the side before looking back. They’re not dumb; they can piece it together for themselves.

                “Speaking of unfortunate circumstances,” Virginia pipes up, and I turn to glare at her. “Why don’t you tell us the story of how you two got married? We’ve heard a bit of it from Tori, but we’d love to hear how it went down from your perspective.”

                “I suppose that’s fair,” he replies. “My family had recently come into possession of a Manus. I was attempting to perform some experiments when one of my spells backfired and I was rendered unconscious. Tori found me and jumped through the warding to try to save my life without realizing that the warding in place was to protect me and members of my family. Professor Potsdam fortunately was present to rectify the situation by telling the Manus that Tori was my betrothed, and we were married that afternoon.”

                “Aw that’s so romantic,” Virginia teases. I sigh inwardly, wanting nothing more than to teleport anywhere but here. “So where did you end up getting married?”

                “In the dungeons,” Hieronymous admits. “Understand that it had to be very private, and we didn’t want to risk Tori’s or my reputation if such details of the affair came to light. Not that it mattered much anyway, as you all well know.” He glances aside at me. “She looked very beautiful. I believe she told Professor Coleman that it was a very romantic ceremony.”

                Virginia gives me a weird look. “He asked,” I say defensively.

                Virginia’s about to ask something else when the food arrives. There are about six plates of things, from a kind of roasted meat slice on a piece of fruit to something that looked like deviled eggs to something that looked like Crab Rangoon. Virginia wastes no time in helping herself to everything, trying everything at the table, but Ellen and I just pick off the respective plates that are closest to us.

                “So, Tori, you’re being very quiet,” Virginia says. At least she isn’t talking with her mouth open right now. “I think this is probably the quietest I’ve seen you.” She turns to Hieronymous. “Usually we can’t get her to stop talking.”

                “Hm, someone sympathetic to my plight,” Hieronymous muses and she laughs. I just make a face at her and keep eating, silently. Hieronymous tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I look up at him just in time to see the amusement and mischief playing behind his eyes. It’s a role, of course it’s a role, but he’s playing it so, so well he’s fooling even me.

                I break eye contact for a moment to realize that Virginia and Ellen are watching us very intently. “Woah,” Virginia says.

                “Psh,” I say, resuming my eating.

                “No, it’s cute,” Virginia says. “I don’t see Ellen and Donald look at each other like that.”

                “Yes, Ellen,” I say to get the attention off me. “Tell us what cute dates you and Donald have been on.”

                Ellen blushes scarlet, but holds her composure. “I will not,” she says softly.

                “So, Tori, are you planning on coming to the gym at all this week?” Virginia asks in an attempt to break the silence.

                “I might as well,” I sigh. “Going to have to get back to it eventually. Maybe it won’t be so bad with other people around.”

                “Take your time,” Hieronymous says, gently smoothing down my hair, and I can see Virginia is watching the contact closely. _How much of this is going to be reported back to Jason?_

                “I’ll be there with you,” Virginia chimes in. “If you feel like you need to run out, I’ll cover for you.”

                “Thank you,” I say quickly.

                “What are friends for, right?” Virginia asks. “Besides, someone needs to watch out for you. Remember last year when Kyo was storming up and down the whole gym complaining about Minnie dumping him and you kicked him in the back of the head with a soccer ball?”

                Hieronymous sighs and glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “I still maintain that that was an accident,” I say innocently, popping something sweet into my mouth.

                “Let’s try to keep the number of enemies you have near zero, okay?” Hieronymous asks.

                “Near zero,” I say cheerfully. “Not at zero. And besides, it’s just Kyo. He’s dating someone else now. He probably doesn’t even remember.”

                “Probably not,” Virginia agrees, turning to Hieronymous. “So I don’t suppose you can tell us anything about the finals that are coming up, huh?”

                “Virginia,” Ellen scolds.

                “I can tell you it will be different than the exams you’ve had in the past,” he says. “This one is on a more introspective level, to prepare you for what you will learn in your third and fourth years.” I want to ask him if I still have to take it but I can’t. Not here. Not in front of Virginia and Ellen.

                The waiter comes by to place the dessert in front of us: a type of candy that is smooth and red and shaped like a strawberry, but without any seeds. “What is it?” Ellen asks.

                “Just put it in your mouth,” Virginia says, and it occurs to me that she’s probably been to magical restaurants with her family before. The two of us wait apprehensively as Ellen puts it in her mouth, wrinkling up her nose as it explodes in a burst of liquid flavor. “Aw, you bit into it too early,” Virginia tells her.

                I take mine, trying to keep a level face. “I should get going,” Hieronymous says quietly, more to me than to them. “Think you can get home safe with your friends?”

                “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I say. He doesn’t move and I turn my head to look at him. That’s when he puts his finger underneath my chin and tips my head up and kisses me, much like he had on the first night that we kissed back during the May Day ball. The fact that he is kissing me here, so openly and publicly, right in front of my friends, is doing strange things to my insides and all I can do is sit there and let myself be kissed.

                “See you at home,” he says as he pulls away, and I can still feel his warm, intoxicating breath on my face as he speaks.

                “Okay,” I say breathlessly.

                “Ms. Middleton, Ms. Danson, I will hopefully see you in class before your examinations,” he says.

                “Oh you will,” Virginia says, and Ellen nods in quick agreement. Hieronymous puts some money down on the table and stands up, kissing the knuckles on my hand gently before he walks away. I watch him go, my cheeks again flushed scarlet.

                “Wow,” Virginia says. “I don’t even know what to say to that.” I don’t answer. “Wow, Tori, you look-“ I deliberately look away. “-happy.”

                “Yeah, well.” I keep my lips pursed as my face flushes with color. “You see how he is. He is gentle and kind and romantic.”

                “And he’s like that all the time?” Ellen asks.

                “Yes,” I say. “Well, around me at least.”

                Virginia crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you sure that was Professor Grabiner? Because I’m still not sure.”

                “That was him,” I say. “Well, not Professor Grabiner. That was Hieronymous. Sometimes it’s like they’re two different people.”

                “Well now I can believe it,” Virginia says as she stands up. “We should be getting back though too. The last bus is going to get here in about ten minutes.”

                “How did he get back?” Ellen asks.

                “Teleported out,” I say.

                “That’s what this main lobby is for,” Virginia says as we pass through it. “But he doesn’t have enough power to teleport all four of us back to school.”

                “Well, he could,” I say. “He’s really powerful.”

                “I bet he is,” Virginia says under her breath, and I scoff at her. “What? I just can’t believe how you look at him. It’s like you turn into a goopy marshmallow every time he’s around.”

                “No I don’t,” I huff, crossing my arms across my chest.

                “You were _shy_ ,” Virginia says. “You were shyer than Ellen.”

                I turn to her. “What was that thing you were saying about the Otherworld? You want to live there?”

                “Well,” Ellen hesitates. “I do, kind of. That’s why I want to know more about it. I wasn’t going to say anything at first, but then Virginia brought it up and he didn’t seem to mind, so-“

                “So who died there?” Virginia asks, raising her eyebrow at me. “Friend? Family member? Girlfriend? _Wife_?”

                “He’s never been married before,” I say quickly.

                “Girlfriend,” Virginia says with a hint of finality. “Do I want to know how it happened?”

                “No,” I shake my head. “You really, really don’t.”

                She pauses and frowns. “That bad, huh?”

                “Just, when I say it’s really bad, please trust that it’s about a thousand times worse than that,” I tell her. “But don’t go spreading that around, okay? Don’t even tell Donald. He’s really…private about that part of his life.”

                “But he’s got you now,” Virginia says slowly, like she doesn’t understand.

                “Yeah,” I say, and I’m unable to hide a twinge of bitterness in my voice.

                “Well,” Virginia breathes as the bus arrives. “He seems to really like you. And he makes you happy. And I guess he can be nice when he wants to be.” She pauses. “And he does look _really_ good in that jacket. Did you tell him to wear that?”

                “I didn’t even know he had it,” I tell her honestly.

                “Well then, you have my blessing,” Virginia says. “Not that you needed it anyway.”

                I smile at her. “It still means something.”


	57. Chapter 57

                I get home about forty-five minutes after Hieronymous left the Glen. I run from the bus stop all the way up to the door, unlocking it with magic before walking inside. Hieronymous is sitting at his desk with his shoes off, tweed jacket around the back of his chair. He immediately looks up as I walk in, a playful smile on his lips. “Well?”

                “I think you sold it,” I say, closing the door behind me. I don’t wait. I rush over to him and jump into his lap, planting a kiss on his lips. I wrap my arms around my neck as I kiss him, travelling from his lips to the space between his neck and his jaw. “I have never seen you so social,” I say between kisses.

                “And I have never seen you so shy,” he breathes as his hand fists in my hair.

                “It was awkward,” I say, pulling away from him. “Usually you’re only like that around me.”

                “Do you want me to only be like that around you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and I think about it for a moment.

                “Yes,” I say. “Out there to everyone else, you’re Professor Grabiner. But this is you. Hieronymous. My Hieronymous.”

                “Your Hieronymous?” he asks as he snakes both arms around my waist.

                “My Hieronymous,” I repeat in a lower voice.

                “And if I’m yours?” he asks, kissing my neck. “What do you want to do with me?”

                I pull away slightly. “You are making this _so_ difficult for me.”

                “That is not my intention,” he says, but I can’t take him seriously with that smirk.

                “Soon,” I whisper in his ear as I kiss him again. He runs his tongue along my jaw line and I moan, sliding off his lap and grabbing his hand as I pull him towards the bed. He pulls off his shirt as he goes, and I pull him between my legs, unbuckling his pants for him. I still have not seen him entirely naked yet; I’m saving that for another time.

                He reaches out and strokes my hair, and I moan as I relish the sensation. He does that a few more times, just gently running his hands through my hair before I can’t take it anymore. I grab him and push him backwards onto the floor, tracing kisses from his navel up to his neck, my hands gliding over his bare skin.

                He rolls around so that he’s on top of me, his hands pinning my wrists to either side of my head. He dips his head down so that he’s whispering directly into my ear, and I can feel his breath on my face. “This could be interesting. Should I continue?”

                “Yes and no,” I whisper, grinning.

                “Yes and no?” He runs a hand down my chest and I buck up my hips to meet his hand.

                “Not yet,” I say, biting my lip. “Soon though.”

                “Soon?” Suddenly he teleports us onto the bed, and I fall back into the fluffy white pillows.

                “Soon,” I confirm. “I think you know when I want to.”

                He smiles up at me, planting a row of kisses on the inside of my arm. “I might have some idea.”

                “And then I’m yours?” I ask in a low voice as I kiss him again.

                “I think you’re already mine,” he says. “But I want _all_ of you.” Our bodies start to wrap around each other, and I have to break the kiss and pull away.

                “Soon,” I repeat, more to myself than to him. The air is thick with tension, and so I quickly think of something, anything, to distract us from making a mistake and doing this too early. “So about the final?”

                “The final?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “I thought you weren’t going to take it.” Mercifully he takes the hint and pulls the blankets over him and I follow suit, pulling off my jeans and shirt and cuddling into the crook of his arm.

                “Well I was _told_ I didn’t have to take it,” I say. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I want to be tested. I mean, I’m already at forty-five merits, might as well go for the extra five.”

                He takes a deep breath. “Tori, you shouldn’t take it.”

                “Is it really that bad?” I ask him.

                “If I tell you that it is, then I know you’ll take it,” he sighs. “Let’s just say this test is designed to challenge you in a way that you haven’t been challenged before in previous examinations.”

                “Go on,” I say.

                “You know I can’t.” He sounds frustrated. “As your husband, this is the wisdom that I am imparting on you: given what you have been through this year, you should not take this test. You are not being required to take it-“

                “If I don’t take it then people will say I’m getting special privileges for sleeping with the teacher,” I argue.

                “Tori, you know that’s not why.”

                “No, but it’s what some people may say,” I tell him. “I want to be on equal footing with my classmates. If everyone else is taking it, then I should take it too.”

                He sighs and kisses my temple. “There is a difference between bravery and foolishness.”

                “Eh, they sort of go hand in hand,” I tell him. “Do you think I’m going to fail the test? Is that it?”

                “No, I don’t think you’re going to fail the test,” he says. “But I’m worried about what’s going to happen to you if you pass.”          

                “That really doesn’t sound good,” I say, more to myself than him.

                “Then will you tell Potsdam that you won’t take it?” he asks me.

                “I don’t think I can do that,” I say slowly. “Whatever it is, I need you to know that I can handle it.”

                “You don’t have to prove anything to me,” he says. “I can’t guarantee what your test will be like. It’s different for everyone.”

                “I think you’re giving me too many hints,” I tease, although I still don’t know what to expect. “You’re going to be there watching me though, right?”

                “Do you want me to be watching you?” he asks.

                “You were watching the last one,” I say. “I don’t know. If it’s really as bad as you say and I get hurt, then no, I don’t want you watching. But at the same time-“ I prop myself up on one elbow to get a better look at him. “I’m _going_ to pass that test. I’m not just going to pass it. I’m going to ace it.”

                He hugs me to him, and for some reason, it feels like he’s holding me tighter than before. “Don’t worry about me,” I tell him. “I can handle myself.”

                “I know,” he murmurs. “That’s exactly the problem.” I’m about to ask him what he means when he puts his palm on my forehead. “Don’t overthink it. Sleep now.”

                I want to argue with him, but his magic is much too powerful for me to contend with, and so I just roll back into his embrace as I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.


	58. Chapter 58

                Later that week, I hang around after white magic class with Professor Potsdam to talk to her about the final. I had continued to try to draw out hints from Hieronymous, but he wasn’t supposed to say, and told me next to nothing aside from the fact that he didn’t want me to take it. This was troubling in itself. Hieronymous Grabiner, who prided himself on knowledge and learning _didn’t_ want me to take an exam? Especially a final? Something strange was going on, and I knew only Professor Potsdam would be able to clarify the situation. After all, she was the acting Headmaster, and she had authority over the final examinations. If she was the one who had originally said she didn’t want me to take this final, then there had to be a reason for it.

                “Ah, Tori,” she says as the students filter out of the classroom. “How are you doing, dear?”

                “I’m doing well,” I say. “Hieronymous and I are actually getting along _extremely_ well.”

                Her face lights up. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you say that. I’ve noticed a change in him, it’s subtle, but I do believe you are softening him.”

                “Oh, don’t tell him that,” I say quickly. “He’s worried about his reputation remaining intact.”

                She shakes her head. “That man. Nothing he does should surprise me anymore, and yet, here we are.” She looks up at me. “So what can I do for you, Tori? You have a question for me?”

                “Um, yes, Professor,” I say quickly. “Hieronymous told me that you didn’t want me to take the final.”

                “That’s right,” she says.

                “I mean, I want to take it,” I hesitate. “I want to be on even footing with everyone in my class, you know? I don’t want people to think that I get to skip the final because of my relationship with a teacher. But at the same time, Hieronymous doesn’t want me to take it, and it just seems like there is something seriously weird going on if Hieronymous doesn’t want me to take a final.”

                “Sit down, Tori,” she says, and she points a finger at the door. It closes, leaving the two of us alone in the room. I slip behind one of the desks in the front row and wait for her to continue.

                “If I tell you what the test is about, it will invalidate you from taking part in the examination,” she says. “Just so we are clear. Do you understand?”

                I frown, but I had kind of expected this. “Yes, I understand. Hieronymous said that he thought I could pass it, but that he would be worried about me if I did. That doesn’t make any sense to me. Is it really dangerous?”

                “Well, that depends on you,” she says. “In your third and fourth years, you will learn a much different type of magic. Right now, you are learning the basics in order to develop your skills. Over the past two years, each of you has developed a taste for your own particular style of magic. I believe you, Tori, dear, prefer blue magic, am I right?”

                “Yes, Professor,” I reply.

                “Exactly,” she says. “But the important thing that you must remember is that the magic doesn’t come from any external source, it comes from inside you, and therefore you must know yourself better than your own best friend. You must be able to rely on yourself to produce magic, even in situations of extreme danger or peril.”

                “It may be of no surprise to you, Tori, that you were already tested when you and Professor Grabiner confronted Damien in the gymnasium. You have already proved that you can do magic, and you can defend yourself, under periods of extreme duress. That is what the test would have asked of you, and you have shown that you have already passed.”

                “But what is in the test itself?” I ask. “How would I have been tested?”

                “That is different for everyone,” she says. “We don’t design the test. We put you in a dungeon and let your mind work out the rest, letting you confront your three worst fears.”  

                “Worst fears?” I repeat. “Like, _worst_ worst fears?”

                She chuckles. “Some students are afraid of spiders, snakes, or clowns. If you’re afraid of the dark, you can use magic to make a light. If you’re afraid of a spider, you can fight it, or you can transfigure it into something else. What about you, Tori? What are you afraid of? What do you think your three worst fears would have been?”

                I bite my lip. “Losing my memories again,” I say immediately. It seems like the most obvious one. “Losing Hieronymous? Being trapped in the gymnasium with no way to defend myself?” I look down. “Having Damien actually, you know, kill me?”

                “You see?” Potsdam asks. “There are plenty of spells to confront a snake, but there aren’t many spells that could help you get past the fear of dying, aside from fighting through the pain.” I shudder. I have absolutely no desire to relive what Damien put me through. She notices this. “You see? You went through something painfully traumatic, Tori. We are all aware of this. You are just starting to heal. I know for a fact that you still haven’t been in the gymnasium since that night, have you?”

                “No,” I say quietly.

                “Or out on the trails?” she asks. I shake my head. “You see? Hieronymous and I have been keeping our eyes on you, and we can see that you are healing. The key here is not pushing yourself too hard, and this is something that Hieronymous insists that you will not be able to do.” I drop my eyes and let out a small laugh. “He knows that if we put you in that examination room, you would not give up, that you would fight through whatever we put you through, no matter how traumatic or painful it is. Is he right?”

                I bite my lip and nod my head. He really does know me. “He’s right.”

                “You push yourself too hard, dear,” she says. “You went through something absolutely terrible. You may never heal from this, not completely.” She lowers her voice. “There are certain things in a person’s life that they can never fully recover from. For example, you know how he is about Violet.” I can’t look at her, and she catches the expression on my face. “Oh, come now. You may not be able to mend it completely, but you will be able to at least move on from it. Look at Hieronymous. He has moved on, hasn’t he?”

                “I think so,” I say softly.

                “Tori,” she says, and I look up at her. “He _loves_ you. You shouldn’t question that.”

                “I don’t.” I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know, I guess it’s just weird to think about. He’s the most important person in my life. If she was still alive, we wouldn’t even be together.”

                “Oh, hush now,” she says as a look of displeasure crosses her face. “You can’t possibly know that. They were very young when they first got together, and couples grow apart as they age all the time. You are fortunate enough to catch him now at a stage in his life when he _does_ know what he wants, and that, it seems, is you.” I try to force a smile, but my mind seems to be caught in a loop of endless hypotheticals. “It never serves well to dwell on the past, dear. You could have a bright future ahead of you with him. Embrace it.”

                “I will,” I say quickly. “Thank you, Professor.”

                “You’re quite welcome,” she says. “I know Hieronymous can be a handful at times, but he is a very loyal person. You two are a good fit for each other.”

                “Thank you,” I repeat. “So, uh, since I’m not going to take the final, is there anything else I have to do?”

                “Well,” she says. “Since you seemed so concerned with staying on level footing with your classmates, I am going to assign you an essay.” My heart sinks a bit, but I just nod. “Ten pages.”

                “The topic?” I ask.

                “Hmm,” she hesitates a moment, thinking it over. “Oh, I know. I want you to give me a ten page paper on green magic and its contraceptive uses.”

                My face falls. “Professor?”

                “Oh come now,” she says. “This is something that every young witch must learn at some point or another, and I believe considering now that you are married it is especially important for you to know how to use it, dear.”

                “I, uh,” I hesitate. I have no idea what to say to that. “When do you want me to hand it in?”

                “Oh, no rush,” she says. “Any time before the end of next week is fine.”

                “Uh, I will do that,” I say slowly. “Thank you, Professor.”

                I turn around and leave the classroom as fast as possible. Hieronymous and I hadn’t even _done_ anything yet, although I supposed that was the point, educating me before we did anything. I immediately rush up to the library and check out three different books on green magic and it’s domestic, everyday uses, figuring something in one of these books would have the information that I needed. I could have, of course, just sat there and puzzled through it, but there was no way I was going to be caught in the library reading about contraception, especially when everyone knew I was married to Hieronymous. I was determined to keep the rumor mill turning with gossip related to someone other than me for once.

                I slunk back to our room and set myself up at his desk, beginning to work. I was determined to get this done as fast as possible so that Hieronymous would never see this essay. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of him seeing the subject matter as I was afraid he was thinking Professor Potsdam was prying into our private affairs, or worse, that I was talking to her about them. True, my parents had never given me the sex talk, but I wasn’t going to talk to Professor Potsdam about it. I actually didn’t plan to talk to anyone about it. I figured I was just going to let whatever happened take its course and I would deal with it from there.

                But as I studied, I realized that it was probably a good idea that Professor Potsdam gave me this essay after all. Hieronymous’ father may have written me last year talking about children, but I was by no means ready to have a child. We hadn’t even talked about it, but we had good reason not to. That was a conversation that didn’t need to happen for another few years, at the very least. Heck, we hadn’t even been intimate yet, and at least I was old enough to know that-

                “What are you reading?” I look up quickly to see Hieronymous standing over me, and I snap the book shut as fast as possible.

                “What?”

                “What are you reading?” he asks again. “You looked extremely pensive.”

                “Was I?” I raise my eyebrows, trying to look as innocent as possible. He eyes me suspiciously. “I was just reading. A book. For class.”

                “Oh?” he asks. He steps away from me, taking off his robes, and I take the time to quickly hide my essay before he can see what I’m writing. “What about?”

                “Nothing interesting,” I reply, as casually as possible. “I mean, nothing that would interest you, really.”

                “You’re a terrible liar,” he says. “I’ve already basically caught you with your hand in the metaphorical cookie jar. Now what will it take for me to draw the truth out of you?”  

                He bends down to kiss me, and I can immediately see where this is going, but after what I’d been reading, I’m distracted in the worst way possible. “You could always just ask me.”

                “And you would tell me the truth?” he asks.

                “Maybe,” I shrug. “If you asked nicely.”

                “Where’s the fun in that?” he asks. He pulls me to my feet as he cups my face in one hand, running the other over my body. Over the past few days, I can tell that he’s getting bolder, but I’m still not ready yet. I had set aside a day in my mind and I wanted it to be special. I wanted it to be on that day. Anything else would be too early.

                I pull myself away from him and sit on the edge of the bed, facing him. “I talked to Professor Potsdam today.” If there was anything I could say to kill the tension between us, it was that. The effect on him is immediate, and I see the look in his eyes jump from hungry to curious in a matter of seconds.

                “Concerning?”

                “The final,” I reply, then decide to test the waters a little bit. “I’m going to take it.”

                “Tori.” Curious to concerned. “I thought I made myself quite clear-“

                “Why don’t you want me to take it?” I ask. I’ve asked him this before, but now that I know what the test is about, it’ll be at least slightly easier to gauge his reaction.

                “Because this test is extremely dangerous,” he says as he paces the room. “You will be challenged, not only physically but mentally as well.”

                “And you don’t think I’m up to the challenge?” I ask. “You don’t think I’m strong enough?”

                “I think you’re strong enough,” he says, turning to look at me. “But I also know you. You are foolhardy and impetuous and I don’t want to see you throw yourself in the midst of danger-“ He sees the look on my face and stops pacing. “What?”

                “Nothing,” I say, unable to wipe the smirk off my face. “It’s just cute, that’s all.”

                His nostrils flare in anger. I forgot what he was like when he was mad. “Tori, this is serious. This test is dangerous, especially for you. I have told you time and time again that I don’t want you going to that final-“

                “So what are you going to do?” I ask. “Tie me up and leave me in here?” He takes a few steps towards me until he’s standing directly in front of me, and that’s when I realize that I’ve had the opposite effect of what I intended.

                “That’s an idea,” he says in a soft voice. He runs his fingertips down my bare arms, and I shudder under his touch, desire rising hot inside of me.

                “I’m not going to take it,” I whisper as he traces my jaw line with his finger.

                “Oh no?” he asks. “And I just managed to convince you now? Just like this?”

                I look back up at him, scooting backwards on the bed so he can no longer reach me. “Professor Potsdam told me what the test was about. She told me I would see what I was most afraid of, so I can understand what you mean now. I don’t want to relive losing my memories, or, or dying, or maybe even losing you.” He opens his mouth to speak, but I keep talking.

                “She told me what you said, about how I’m stupid enough to fight through whatever it is because I have a tendency of pushing myself too hard. And you’re right. I probably would. But I wouldn’t want you to have to watch that again. I wouldn’t want to do that to you. So I’m taking a page out of your book, and I’m, I’m channeling your wisdom, and I’ve decided that I’m not going to put myself in that kind of situation again. I’m not going to take the final.”

                He narrows his eyes at me. “Once she told you what the test was about, you would have been invalidated from taking it regardless.”

                “And the reason I asked her to explain to me what the test was about was because I had already decided I didn’t want to take it,” I say. “Because I was listening to you. You were concerned. You were worried about me, and I didn’t want to push you-“

                “Wait,” he says. “So you mean to tell me that when you said a minute ago that you _were_ going to take the final-“

                “I just wanted to gauge your reaction,” I say sheepishly. “Now that I knew what the test was about and everything.”

                He narrows his eyes at me. “See?” he asks. “You didn’t tell me the truth.”

                “Well, you didn’t ask nicely,” I reply. “If you had, you would have known that I asked for an alternative assignment, and Professor Potsdam has asked me to write a paper on the general uses of green magic instead.” It sounds convincing enough to my own ears, as it’s not _technically_ a lie…

                He gets on the bed beside me, and I can feel my heart rise into my throat. “While I am glad you are finally taking my advice,” he says in a low voice. “I think I’m going to have to punish you for this.”

                “You really don’t have to,” I say quickly.

                “I think I do.” He moves his body over mine and I can feel myself getting anxious with anticipation as he bends down to whisper in my ear. “I think I’m going to have to tickle you.”

                “No!” My eyes shoot open as he grabs my stomach, and at first I can’t control how my body reacts when he touches me, and I find myself thrusting my hips upwards towards him. He rolls up the bottom of my tank top just a bit to reveal my midriff as he begins his assault, tickling my sides. I laugh, throwing my head back into the pillow, as I try to catch my breath. He grins above me as I gasp and shriek his name, trying to push him off of me.

                Finally he stops, pinning my hands above my head as he lowers his face to mine. “So are you going to behave now?”

                I grin wickedly as I smile up at him. “Never.”


	59. Chapter 59

                It doesn’t take me long to finish the paper on contraceptive magic, and I have it delivered to Professor Potsdam’s office on Wednesday. I decide to go to Hieronymous’ class on Thursday, and so I check in with her on Friday to make sure that she got it.

                “Um, Professor,” I say quickly, heading up to the front of the room after class ends. “I was just wondering, I left my essay on green magic outside the box in your office. I just wanted to make sure that you got it.”

                “Oh yes,” she says as she rummages through the papers on her desk. “I gave it a quick read-through, but it looked like it was very thorough.”

                “Um, I’m glad,” I say, a bit confused. “Do I, um, get any merits for completing it, or-?”

                “Oh, well that would be up to the teacher that is grading it, dear,” she says without looking up at me.

                “The teacher that’s grading it?” I ask slowly.

                “Yes,” she says as she looks up at me. “I believe I’ve left it with Professor Grabiner.” She winks at me, and I feel my face flush.

                “Professor Grabiner?” I repeat. “Any, uh, particular reason why?”

                “It may be your body, but that doesn’t mean that the men should be any less educated than the ladies,” she says. “Don’t you agree?”        

                “Um, yes,” I say. Other students have questions about the final and so I quickly duck out of the classroom and make my way back to the room. Really? Did she really have to give Hieronymous my paper on _contraception_ of all things? Sure, I guess it was important for him to know it too, but it was still so _embarrassing_.

                I can’t wait for him to get home that night. As soon as the door opens, I’m immediately on my feet. “Did you read my essay?” I ask him anxiously.

                “Hmm?” he asks as he closes the door behind him.

                “Professor Potsdam gave you my essay,” I exclaim.  

                “Yes,” he says simply, walking past me and setting his hat down on his desk. “It was very informative. Five merits.” I’m waiting for him to smirk, or to make some sort of joke, but he doesn’t.

                “Is that it?” I ask him, confused as ever. He simply winks at me as he heads into the bathroom for his nightly shower, and we don’t talk about it again after that.        

                Hieronymous has detention on Saturday, and so I decide to spend the last Saturday of the year with Ellen, Virginia, and Donald.

                “So what do you want to do?” Virginia asks. We’re all sitting around in the room, with Donald sitting on my old bed. It doesn’t feel like my bed anymore, and every time I see it I’m just reminded of how many times I slept there without knowing that I was married to Hieronymous. It’s not a good feeling.

                “We can go to the gym,” I suggest, and all three turn around to look at me. “Play some soccer or something?”

                “You sure you’re ready?” Virginia asks.

                “The present is as good a time as any,” I sigh. “I’m going to be on this campus for another two years, so I might as well get used to it.”

                “Someone’s being brave,” Donald teases.

                “Yeah, what did Grabby say to you?” Virginia asks, and I stick out my tongue at her.

                “Oh, like I’m incapable of being brave by my own merits?” I ask.

                “You guys go on,” Ellen says. “I’m going to stay here and get some studying done before the final. I have no idea what to expect this year.”

                “Uh yeah,” I say quickly. It occurs to me that they probably don’t know I’m not going to take the final, and I probably shouldn’t volunteer that information either. “Besides, we’ll have time to hang out together all summer anyway. See you Ellen!”

                She waves to me as me, Virginia and Donald exit the room. “You know, I’m going to be here all summer too,” Donald says.

                “Summer school?” I ask him as we walk towards the gymnasium.

                “Yup.”

                “Well, whatever you do, please keep yourself out of detention,” I tell him. “I would prefer to spend Saturday afternoons with my husband.”

                “Is that where he is now?” Virginia asks, and I nod.

                “Unfortunately.”

                “You know,” Virginia says. “You can always get yourself thrown in detention too. And then you guys will get to spend more time together.”

                “Yeah, but then he’d have to punish her too,” Donald says, and I have to look away as I feel my cheeks go hot.

                “Oh, Tori,” Virginia says as she throws her head back with laughter. “So not what he meant.”

                “It still sounded wrong,” I say. It doesn’t take us long to reach the gym, and I quickly peak inside. It’s empty. It’s just the gym.

                “So, where did it all go down?” Virginia asks, walking inside.

                “Um,” I point to a far corner. “Me, there. Hieronymous, there. Damien was kind of, in the middle there.”

                “Then we’ll just avoid that area,” Virginia says. “And play on this side.” She goes into the side closet near the door and pulls out a soccer ball. “Magic or no magic?”

                “No magic,” I say. “I haven’t played in forever. I just want a nice, normal-“ Virginia kicks the ball and it whizzes past my head. “Seriously?”

                “Just trying to keep you focused,” Virginia says teasingly. “Got to keep your eye on the ball.”

                We play around for a little bit, kicking the ball to each other and pretending to score on each other, even though we were playing without a net. I keep trying to tell myself that I’m okay, but I don’t like it when my back is turned to that corner of the gym. It makes me uncomfortable in ways I can’t even describe.

                “Hey gang.” I look up sharply to see Professor Coleman coming into the gym.

                “Hey, Jason,” Virginia says, pulling the ball away from me. “Think fast.” She kicks the ball towards him and he catches it in midair, spinning it in his hands. The way he holds the ball so naturally makes me think he has some kind of athletic experience, or at least has played a fair bit before.

                “Hey, do you mind if I steal Tori for a second?”

                “Um,” Virginia looks hesitantly back at Donald. “Yeah, it’s getting late. We should probably get back to studying too.”

                They make a move to exit the gym and I go with them quickly. I refuse to be trapped in the gym with just Jason. Not here. Not again. I didn’t realize how long we were playing for, and I could see the sky starting to get darker with night coming on. I shut the gym door behind me and stand next to him. “Don’t be a stranger,” Virginia says, and hugs me quickly before she and Donald head back to their dorm.

                “So you wanted to speak to me, sir?” I ask, turning to face him.

                “Yes,” he says. “Your friends told me all about your dinner with Grabby.”

                “Oh?” I ask. “And they told you how he was a perfect gentleman?”

                “Yeah,” he chuckles.

                “So this is your apology?” I ask.

                “No,” he shakes his head. “Far from it. He’s got you fooled, and now he has your friends fooled too.”

                I sigh. This whole “Grabby is a bad guy” thing is getting old fast, and is more than a little immature, especially coming from another teacher. “Did you ever stop to realize that maybe the only one who’s being fooled is you?” I ask. “He’s not a mean person. That’s only who he pretends to be in order to scare students straight. You may not agree with it, and yeah, okay, if setting a notebook on fire is any indication, he can go overboard sometimes, but he generally means well.”

                “People who mean well are still capable of great misdeeds,” Jason says.

                “And?” I ask. “That doesn’t mean anything to me. He’s not a social person. He’s not going to pretend to be someone he’s not.”

                “He did last Saturday,” Jason says, and I just shrug.

                “That’s just another side to him,” I say. “There are many different sides to him, just like I’m sure there are many different sides of you.” He tilts his head to the side and looks at me strangely. “Well, I mean, for one, you’re both really similar. You both want students to respect you and learn from you, but you both are coming at it from completely opposite ends of the spectrum. You do it through charm and friendliness, and he does it through scare tactics and a lot of yelling.”

                “You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar,” Jason notes.

                “Maybe,” I shrug. “But different things work for different people. You help some people learn, and he helps other people learn. And that way, between the two of you, you help everyone learn.” I smile up at him teasingly. “You know, if you can get past his whole gruff demeanor, I bet you two could even become friends.”

                “I think I’ll pass,” Jason says quickly. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

                “And I am okay,” I say. “I am very okay. And he’s a big part of that.”

                He just shakes his head, as if there’s something he still doesn’t understand. Maybe he doesn’t understand it. Maybe he never will. “Have a good summer, Tori.”

                “You too, sir.” I say. I cross my arms over my chest and watch him walk away towards the direction of his office. He was so weird. At first when I met Hieronymous, I thought _he_ was weird, but Jason took it to a whole different level.

                “And what could you two have been discussing at this late hour?” I hear a voice from behind me and I spin around to see Hieronymous standing there, a smirk of amusement on his lips. “Outside the gymnasium, no less?”

                “I was playing soccer in there earlier with Virginia and Donald,” I tell him. He looks pleasantly surprised.

                “And?” he asks.

                “And-“ I rub at my upper arm uncomfortably. “I don’t like having my back to that wall. It makes me feel…” I shudder and shake my head. “Icky.”

                Even though we’re standing where anyone could probably see us, he leans in and kisses the top of my forehead. “But you’re still trying,” he says. “And I’m proud of you for that.”

                I smile at him and hold out my hand for his. He sighs and glances around before taking it. “Should we take the trails back?” he asks.

                I shake my head quickly. “Not ready for that yet. Sometimes it feels like I’m walking into an enchanted forest where the tree branches are going to come and snap me up.”

                “And you think I would let that happen to you?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

                “No,” I tell him. “No, you’d protect me. You protected me this whole year, and you protected me from taking the final, and I’m sure there are other ways you’re going to protect me down the line.”

                “Yes, well,” he says. “Hopefully they won’t involve any more life threatening situations, for either of our sakes.”

                “Nah,” I say. “Although I’m still waiting for our first real fight as a married couple.”

                “Oh?” he asks. “And you’re not afraid that I’ll, what did they say? Throw you around the room and pin you to the ceiling?”

                “I think you know I can defend myself,” I say, smirking at him. “You’re powerful, but I’m crafty.”

                “I think I would prefer it if you assured me that you knew I wouldn’t hurt you at all,” he sighs, and I laugh as I wrap both of my arms around one of his and rest my head against his shoulder as we walk.

                “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried,” I continue, and he just sighs again as he shakes his head. “Anyway, there’s only two classes left for the year, and then we have the whole summer to ourselves.”

                “Well, we have two weeks off,” he says. “And then summer classes resume. I expect that you will talk to Professor Potsdam about what classes you plan to take.”

                “If I take any,” I say, and he gives me a sour look. “I’m just kidding.” I giggle. “I wonder if she’d approve of any secret study sessions with you.”

                He contemplates this. “There’s no harm in asking.”

                “Oh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “Would we actually get any studying done?”

                “I think that would depend,” he says.

                “On?”

                “You,” he says simply, and I don’t even bother asking what he means. Instead I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him.

                “Tori-“ he breaks the kiss quickly, his eyes glancing around to make sure no one saw.

                “What?” I ask. “Afraid to kiss your wife in public?” He stares at me for a second before he grabs me suddenly, pushing me backwards. I feel myself falling until I realize that he’s got a firm hold on my back. He dips me low and presses his lips against mine, kissing me passionately. I close my eyes and kiss him back, vaguely aware that this may be the second most romantic thing he’s ever done for me. When he stands me back up again, he continues walking back towards the dorms but I just stand there, dizzy and transfixed, gingerly touching my bottom lip to make sure the kiss was real.  

                _Did that really just happen?_ He turns around to look at me and a huge grin spreads across my face as I run to catch up with him. I didn’t know what would happen in the future, but I did know that Hieronymous would never stop surprising me, and life would never be boring. And honestly, when it came right down to it, could I even ask for anything more?

                He takes my hand in his as we walk back towards our room.

                _No. I couldn’t._


	60. Chapter 60

                My second year at Iris Academy was finally over. It felt like it had gone by a lot faster this year, although I supposed that may have been because my memories of Hieronymous were missing for most of it, and I was unconscious for the rest. But we had quickly made up for lost time, and we were together now, not just together and married, but actually living together, in the same room, in the same bed. It seemed so strange that one year ago today I was relishing the feeling of my first kiss when we’ve shared so many kisses since that time. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could count them all.

                Virginia tried convincing me to go to the May Day ball this year, but I knew Hieronymous would never want to and to be honest, I didn’t want to either. It had been a long time coming, but I was finally ready for it to be a special night for both of us. Considering last year had been our first kiss, it seemed appropriate to make tonight another night of firsts.

                I wait patiently for Hieronymous to get done with last minute make-up finals and head back to the room. “You okay?” he asks me when he finally comes in that night.

                “Yeah,” I reply. I had been sitting at the end of the bed, just zoning out into space. The year was over. My memories were restored, and I was alive. Hieronymous and I were together. When all was said and done, that was all that mattered.

                “You can still go to the dance-“ he offers, but I just shake my head.

                “No,” I say quickly. “But you had a long day. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

                He gives me a strange look. “You sure?”

                “Yeah,” I say. I wait for him to disappear into the bathroom before I slip into his closet and pull out my wedding dress. I quickly slide into it as the shower water starts, using black magic to make the necessary adjustments here and there. He doesn’t take long, and I quickly sit down on the edge of the bed as I wait. I can feel my heart racing in my chest and I reach up and cradle the dark blue stone between my fingers, allowing myself to be calmed by the steady pulse of his heartbeat between them.

                The bathroom door opens suddenly, and he comes walking out in his usual bedroom attire: pajama pants, no shirt. He looks me up and down, and I blush, looking away. “I thought it would be appropriate.”

                “You look beautiful,” he says, and I smile, looking down at my hands.

                “I’m nervous,” I admit as he walks over to me. He puts his finger underneath my chin and forces my eyes up to meet his, just like he did when we shared our first kiss.

                “We don’t have to do this today,” he says gently. “There’s no rush-“

                “No, I want to,” I say, and he seems to wait for me to continue. “What?”

                “That’s it?” he asks. “No more speeches?”

                I laugh, looking back down. “No, I think I’ve had enough speeches for one year. I think right now I am literally speech _less_.”

                He laughs, and I can see that he is just as awkward and nervous as I am. If we’re going to do this, I’m going to have to make the first move. “So Mr. Grabiner, are you going to kiss your bride?”

                He cups my face in both hands, bringing my lips up to meet his. He kisses me softly, delicately, and I can feel myself being drawn into him. I can feel myself wanting him. I wasn’t ready before, but now I’m sure of it. I want to spend every single day of the rest of my life with this man, and I want to give myself to him completely.

                “Are you ready, Mrs. Grabiner?” he asks, holding out his hand for mine.

                I smile and put my hand in his without hesitation. “Ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thanks everyone so much for reading!! It was really fun to write and I'm not ready for the story to be over! I have a sequel of sorts slightly prepared, set right after this, but it does take an explicit turn (as I'm sure you can guess!) so I have to make it a separate story to reflect that rating, but it will be posted today as it's more of a continuation of this chapter!
> 
> Continue to follow Tori's life with Hieronymous from her summer after sophomore year, throughout her junior year at Iris Academy, with the sequel, Back to the Top. You can get there quickly by clicking on the little >> arrow at the bottom of the page to jump to Part Two of The Magical Diaries of Tori Brown series.


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